The Astronaut
by the writer formerlyknown as lm
Summary: Nymphadora Tonks and the Order of the Phoenix. Originally titled, 'Conversing with Molly.' Being edited at this exact moment and should be finished very soon - before the end of the world in 2012.
1. The Girl with the Pink Hair

**Sole Author's Note: **I really hate these things, but there are a few things I need to say before we begin. (Feel free to skip ahead.)

First of all, this story has been a long time coming. When I first posted it, the sixth book had just been published, and fandom was reeling about the Tonks/Lupin pairing. A long time shipper of them, I was pleased, but also, at the same time, a bit sick to my stomach. While I understood Rowling's intentions, her portrayal of Tonks as a lovesick fool in the sixth book made me a bit upset. I wanted her to be a strong, bad ass Auror. I didn't want her to spend a year _moping over a boy_.

So I started this story, wanting to depict how Tonks and Remus spent the year of OoTP. But it wasn't very good, so I decided to re-write it, and, as I got older, I began to see relationships differently, and Tonks's sixth book characterization started to make more sense to me, and, well, (seven fucking years later,) here we are. There will be 30 chapters over all, and I do hope you enjoy them.

There were several lovely stories I was inspired by, but frankly, most of them are long gone from the internet and I can't remember the authors' names. Mostly, I alluded to fanfic I liked by copying characters' names. There is a scene with Snape in chapter 17 that is a direct reference to another Lupin/Tonks fic I was always very fond of, but I've lost it through the passage of time. If anyone out there knows the fic to which I'm referring, please, point me in the right direction. Also, all dictionary definitions are courtesy of dictionary DOT com.

Thanks for your time, and thanks to all the wonderful people who've read this through the years, especially the loyal bunch who pushed me through the first draft. I love all of you.

* * *

The Girl with the Pink Hair was no stranger to strange looks; she did, after all, elicit them almost everywhere she went. It was a price she was willing to pay, and this day was shaping up to be no different.

This day, her particular look included ripped fishnets, a plaid skirt, and a clip-on eyebrow ring. She felt several people stare at her as she ambled along the busy street, as she stopped every once in a while to check out the displays in the shop windows, pressing her face up against the glass like an excited child at Christmas.

"I suppose yeh think yeh look tough," the man at the newsagents said when she stopped to buy a few magazines and a paper. The Girl with the Pink Hair stopped by every morning, and he had been the one to christen her. It wasn't exactly a misnomer, but her hair wasn't always pink; the day before, she had been a strawberry blonde. This particular day, her hair was short and spiky and electric blue. Her outfits seemed to change as often as her hair, and if it were not for the fact that her heart-shaped face was always the same, she'd be unrecognizable.

"Not particularly, no," she replied with a cheeky grin. "Why, Alfie, do you?"

Her eyes twinkled playfully, and Alfie could have sworn they were a different color than they had been just yesterday. But her hairstyle must have been playing tricks on him.

"Frankly, miss," he said, "no matter how yeh dress, yer always gonna look like yeh wouldn't harm a fly."

"I _wouldn't_ harm a fly," The Girl with the Pink Hair said, smirking over the top of the paper she had opened in front of her, "but a beetle? I hate those things."

"Yer spunky, miss."

The Girl with the Pink Hair laughed. "You make me sound like a bad case of fungus. _Spunk_, isn't that what that is?"

"Yer growing on me, if that's what yeh mean. Yeh don't mind I call yeh 'Pink Hair,' do yeh?"

"Oh, no. I've certainly been called much worse." She wasn't looking at him anymore, and instead was frowning at the paper. With a grunt, she crumpled it up and tossed it into the bin next to the stand, even though she couldn't have had time to read it all.

Alfie paused, and then, before he could talk himself out of it, he asked the question he'd been wondering since the first day he'd met her. "Where do yeh go, dressed like that, every day, miss?" He had learned not to ask about the papers she threw away; the only time the Girl had responded, she had said that she just really hated trees. It had taken Alfie until long after she was gone to realize that she had been joking. Probably.

The Girl with the Pink Hair shrugged and gave a small, girlish kind of smile. "I go where everyone goes every day," she said. "I go to work."


	2. Tree Hairs and Actively Being Haunted

Take a look at your arm.

If you're like most normal people, I would assume that you've never really looked at your arm before. I mean, you've probably looked at it at some point in time, but very rarely do people look at their arms with a purpose. It's almost astonishing the way people can obsess over their bodies, the way people can spend hours in front of the mirror, agonizing about their supposed flaws – flaws that, if I may say so myself, no other rational person would ever probably notice because they're far too busy thinking about _their own_ flaws.

It creates a vicious cycle, laboring under the belief that no one else is as self-involved as you are when that's hardly ever true. For example, if someone points out one of your flaws – say you're a bit fat, and someone calls you out on it – it almost always hearkens back to the insulter, them, being insecure, and it has very,_ very_ little to do with the insulted, you. But you will take it personally; they would take it personally; most people would take it personally, and that's why most people spend 75% of their lives wasting away in front of a looking glass.

So, with that in mind, take a look at your arm.

Arms are not regularly judged by society, not the way faces and legs and bums are, so I'm asking you to look at your arm as if you've never seen it before, to examine it as if was as important of a factor in you finding a mate as your nose shape. (Your nose is lovely, by the way.)

Look at the skin, and pinch it together. Watch the way it creases to form mountains, the way your hairs stand on end like trees, and the way your tiny, tiny pores have turned into tiny, tiny mountain-holes.

Now imagine that you could change one pore, that you could cave in one mountain-hole, with just a simple thought. Imagine that you could change the color of just one hair in a fraction of a second.

It's kind of underwhelming, isn't it? You're looking at your tree hairs in whatever natural tree hair color spouts from your body and you're imagining that one of them, for some odd reason, is purple. What on earth does a purple little hair matter?

I don't expect you to understand. But Nymphadora Tonks spent many hours in her bedroom, staring at her arms, watching her mountain-holes vanish and reappear, watching individual hairs slurp back into her dermis and go... Well, she didn't know _where_ they went. But she could feel her muscles contract and change, and, as far as she knew, she couldn't produce nor destroy body mass, but she could _stretch_ it. Move it. Shift it. Tonks's bones were not the foundation of her body; Tonks's bones were as susceptible to her will as the tree hairs on her head, which she just so-happened to change almost daily.

"Tell me you're not going out in public like that."

Her mother, Andromeda, a stiff, formal woman who sometimes liked to spoil Tonks with what some people would deem simple signs of affection, was standing in her doorway and frowning.

Tonks was in her bedroom. The bedroom she had lived in as long as she could remember. The bedroom that, now that she was almost twenty-two, seemed almost embarrassing.

"I'm not going out in public like this." Tonks turned away from the mirror, to face her mother instead of her mother's reflection. She dropped her hands, which had just been playing with her hair, to her sides. "I'm going to work."

Her mother frowned, thought-lines appearing on her forehead. "Don't they have a dress code at your office?"

"They do," Tonks said, pulling out her wand and Charming her stuffed unicorn, which usually lived amongst the pillows, and making it prance around her bed. "They do," she repeated, "but they hardly ever enforce it."

Her mother sniffed very loudly then, but said nothing else, as a sniff is a classy way of showing condescension without actually having to put effort into it. "Have breakfast at the very least."

"I can't, Mum, really." Tonks looked at her Chudley Cannons watch, the long hand with its Quaffle on the end, and the short hand with its Snitch, and she almost felt as if it were laughing at her, and not because the watch was Charmed to laugh at you when you were late. "I should've left ten minutes ago."

"And what kept you? Your hair?"

"I honestly don't know why it bothers you so much."

"It bothers me because you have a respectable job, and you dress like a – "

"A _what, _Mum? I'm waiting for you to finish that thought."

"Then you're going to be even later than you already are because I won't." Her mother smiled that rare smile that brought out the kindness of her eyes. "It's far too early for me to be literate."

"Articulate."

"That too."

"I'll see you later, Mum."

"You're leaving terribly early." Andromeda craned her neck to look at the clock on the fireplace mantel. "Why don't you just pick a closer Apparation point, Nymphadora? Or Floo, for Merlin's sake!"

"Floo makes me ill. And I like to walk through town. Keeping up with the Muggles is important."

"Don't remind me. Your father insists that we go to the Indian place for our anniversary."

"That place is good."

"Yes, but then we always go out to watch a film and watching those big people always makes _me_ ill."

"So then go over to Gran's and watch the telly. Little people."

"Someday, Nymphadora, you're going to understand that in-laws are not particularly welcome guests at anniversary celebrations."

"Is that a subtle jab at my social life?"

"Subtle?"

"Look who's suddenly good with language! Look, Mum, seriously, I've got to leave. Promise me you won't double up on the wards again."

What had been a playful conversation, and, quite frankly, the nicest one in a long time between Tonks and her mother, suddenly took a downcast turn. That light that Tonks yearned to see in her mother's eyes, that flicker of something that she tried so hard to evoke, vanished. Her mother looked sadder and older than ever.

Tonks searched for something to say, but words escaped her. She sighed and scratched at her neck. Andromeda sighed and ran a hand through her black, greying hair. Then she resolutely walked over to her daughter and gave her a hug.

"I'll see you later," she said to Tonks's ear.


	3. The Insubordinate Subordinate

Bosses, by nature, are nasty creatures, and if you've never seen one in its natural habitat, then you are very, very lucky, and most likely a child.

Tonks was neither.

Tonks was going to be twenty-two in August, and she had been working as an Auror for almost a year. Because she was but a cog in the machine known as The Ministry of Magic, Tonks had several bosses and several people who were higher up than she was. Tonks supposed that, in some abstract way, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was her boss, but he had never even spoken to her, and she had seen him just once, while he met with all the Aurors. That had been following the hysteria at the Quidditch World Cup, and Tonks had been so embarrassed about the whole thing that she'd kept her eyes firmly on the ground while men who were stationed well above her gave their reports.

Closer to Tonks was the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement department, Amelia Bones. Tonks didn't know Bones very well, either, but she personally thought that she was much more competent – and therefore, intimidating – than Fudge, and secretly idolized her.

She had only met Amelia Bones once, on the first day of her Auror training. She had been running late, and rushing to get into the lift. The Ministry of Magic was a busy, bustling place, and Tonks, who at the time was still concerned with the dress code, maneuvered through the crowd while finagling into her work cloak. Truth be told, Tonks could barely finagle when standing still, and so she left a trail of disaster in her wake.

She elbowed a witch in the eye; she tripped a wizard who had been carrying a stack of papers he had just spent the last eight months organizing; and she ended up knocking over a vampire who sneezed blue right into her face.

"I think it's getting better," he said. "Yesterday it was pink."

She turned away from him and tumbled into the lift that had fortunately just opened its doors.

"Level?"

Tonks, who was on her knees, looked up into the kind, weathered face of a witch she somewhat recognized. Realizing that she was on the floor, out of breath, and half-stuck in a cloak, she pushed herself up and quickly tried to gain composure. "Er, the second."

"Well, then," the witch said brusquely, "off we go."

The two seconds Tonks spent in the lift with Amelia Bones were simultaneously the most awkward and most wonderful two seconds of her life. They got off at the same floor, and Bones turned to her as they exited. "I suppose you're one of the Auror recruits?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am."

"Well, then you'd better not dally. You're already late."

Tonks had wished that she could be so calm and collected, that she could somehow demand that much deference. It was that instance with Bones that convinced Tonks that she really, truly did want to be an Auror.

And as an Auror, Tonks had another boss: the Head of her department, Rufus Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour was a leonine man with a tough gritty way, but for some reason Tonks wasn't very intimidated by him.

"You're late, Tonks."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Tonks said, plopping into the seat she usually occupied between Dawlish and Shacklebolt. Both of the men were flanking Scrimgeour where he stood at the front, going over some papers in his hand. Scrimgeour liked expanding the broom cupboard into a meeting room for special times – like when Fudge had dropped by – and he had started to do it all the more regularly.

"I don't need to hear your excuse." Scrimgeour frowned at Tonks over the top of his spectacles. "I just hope you got your reports done."

"Aye," Tonks said, pulling the shrunken packet out of her pocket, tapping it with her wand to enlarge it. "They're all done and accounted for. And, I know you said you didn't want to hear my excuse, but I was doing research."

"Research, hmmm?" Scrimgeour grunted, reaching over and taking the paperwork.

"Yep, I was reading the Muggle news, seeing if anything suspicious had been reported. I know that we tend to get things ahead of them, but it's always good to keep your ears open, eh?"

Shacklebolt frowned and shuffled the pages he was holding. "What the hell are you talking about, Tonks?"

Tonks flushed. Shacklebolt was probably the second-in-command following Scrimgeour, and he was very imposing, and _large, _and he had the tendency to make Tonks feel like she was only two inches tall.

"Nothing, I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying –"

"It sounds like you're still saying something," Dawlish commented, and everyone in the room laughed. Tonks felt herself grow redder. She slid down a bit in her chair.

"I understand the desire to see what's going on with the Muggles," Scrimgeour said, rather matter-of-factly, "but at the moment, there's absolutely nothing going on with them that we wouldn't know about. Dawlish, Shacklebolt, if you two would be seated. Ah, yes. As I was saying, I had a meeting this morning with Fudge, and we talked about all the horrible things that have happened this last year, what with the Dark Mark appearing at the World Cup, and that boy dying in the Twiwizard Tournament, and things... Well, as I'm sure you've heard, Dumbledore and Harry Potter are both claiming that this means that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named has returned."

This came as a surprise to no one in the room, but Tonks had only heard this in mutterings and not addressed so directly.

"Moody is also of this opinion, and it is for that reason that we have refused to rescind his resignation."

"What do you mean?" Tonks blurted out before she could help herself. No one else seemed to mind.

"We always said," Proudfoot piped up, "that Moody's resignation was nothing more than a piece of paper, and that he was always welcome to re-join us, and, hell, he most likely would!"

"It's just for the moment," Scrimgeour said calmly, running his fingers through his impressive beard. "The Ministry does not wish at present to align itself with anyone who sides with Dumbledore."

"Is the Ministry _against _Dumbledore?" Tonks asked, shocked. She had always been of the impression that her former Headmaster was little less than infallible.

"Absolutely not. Fudge, however, wants to examine all the evidence before sending the community up in pandemonium, and I have to say, I agree. The last thing we want to do is frighten anyone, especially when we're not entirely sure."

"What would they gain by lying, though?" Savage asked.

"Fudge believes that Dumbledore's motivations are political. Potter, on the other hand, seems to be a fairly troubled young man; I'm sure you all read the Rita Skeeter articles."

Tonks's head was spinning. "I knew Cedric," she said without even thinking. "I went to school with him. What about the investigation into his death? Surely that's the least bit suspicious?"

"I'm _not _discounting anything," Scrimgeour said, slamming his hand down on the table before him, sending papers onto the floor and knocking over his coffee. "I've been an Auror my whole damn life, and I know that the number one thing we must do is keep all of our options open. Cedric Diggory's death was obviously a tragic accident – something that is not at all foreign when it comes to the Twiwizard Tournament, as I'm sure you all know.

"But that doesn't mean that You-Know-Who was involved, just as it doesn't mean that he _wasn't _involved. At the moment, we don't really know _anything. _Dumbledore, of course, set up the Twiwizard Tournament in the first place, even after the school governors advised him not to. He personally went against the advice of seventeen other witches and wizards who had nothing but the best interests of Hogwarts at heart –"

"How is this relevant?" Shacklebolt, who had been sitting quietly and thoughtfully beside Tonks, finally spoke up. His booming voice reverberated around the room and sunk into Tonks's bones.

"The relevancy, Kingsley," Scrimgeour said, adjusting his glasses, "is that Dumbledore has the habit of doing whatever the hell he wants and getting away with it. Not that I blame him; if I was believed to be the greatest wizard of this age, I probably would, too. But is this You-Know-Who business meant to distract from his poor decision-making? I honestly don't know."

A deafening silence filled the room. Everyone sat lost in their own thoughts. Scrimgeour's detractive comments against Dumbledore were almost sacrilegious. He seemed to realize this.

"I'm not trying to attack Dumbledore. I'm trying to examine this whole issue from every single angle. And that is why I agree with Fudge that the best option for the Ministry is complete and utter neutrality. I believe that is the mode that the Magical Law Enforcement Department should take, and I daresay Amelia Bones will side with me.

"It will do no one any good to run around screaming at the top of their lungs that You-Know-Who is back. The most logical option for us Aurors is to continue to solve the crimes that keep coming up to us and to keep putting the dangerous lunatics behind bars. Of course Knockturn Alley continues to be the cesspool of criminal activity that we need to fish from. And Shacklebolt is still leading the case on Sirius Black. The sooner you find that bastard, Kingsley, the sooner a lot of the community's mind will be put at ease."

Scrimgeour surveyed the room before him. "I'm done. You may go to your cubicles."


	4. The Giant Squid Adventure

Tonks sat underneath the tree, doing her homework, smiling and laughing and spending one of many of the best days of her life at Hogwarts. Her best friend, Cynthia Moon, pinned and un-pinned her prefect badge. "Do you think it looks better like this? Or maybe like this?"

"For Merlin's sake, Cyn! Is it a ruddy law that you lot have to be so annoying?"

"You're just mad because I got made prefect and you didn't."

"Not really," Tonks said, smirking and trying to do her Arithmancy homework at the same time. "The last thing I'd want is to be given responsibility. It sounds absolutely maddening."

"It's really not so bad," Cynthia said, pinning the pin to the left side of her cloak. "You get to ride in a nice compartment on the train and you get to patrol the halls at night and take points away from everyone you see, even nasty Slytherins and haughty Gryffindors."

"But surely, being a prefect, you're fair and balanced." Tonks promptly shut her book. "I can't concentrate. It's too pretty. Look at everyone playing tag. I can't believe term's already started. I had too much fun this summer."

"You still won't tell me what happened. You must have met a boy."

"I didn't meet a boy," Tonks said, trying to hide her blush. She hastily changed the subject. "So, what's patrolling like? How many points do you get to take away?"

Cynthia's eyes widened. "As many as we want. Dumbledore said that it was completely up to our discretion, but that these things have a way of evening out, and I daresay he was right. I took ten from Zaloth Falcon for snogging his girlfriend, and then when the Gryffindor Head Boy caught me in the kitchens, he took ten away from me! What he was doing in the kitchens in the first place is, of course, one of life's great unanswerable questions."

"So that's all this prefect business is, innit? An extension of the inter-House rivalries?"

"It really is. Uzoamaka Loke from Ravenclaw takes it very seriously, but everyone else is just having fun. So far, though, aside from prefect duty, fifth year isn't all it's cracked up to be. Tell me you've done your Transfiguration essay already."

"Why?"

"So I can copy it."

Tonks tsked. "I can't believe it. The bloody prefect is copying off me."

"This O.W.L. business is going to drive me mad!" Cynthia pulled at her blonde ringlets. "I mean, it's one thing for the Professors to stress how important it is this early in term, but to already be breathing down our backs about it? Absurd. Besides, forgive me for turning to the girl who can Transfigure herself in her sleep for answers."

"Transfiguring yourself is quite different from Transfiguring other things."

"But is it, really? Didn't McGonagall say on our first day that Metas were more predisposed to Transfiguration and Animagi spells and things like that?"

"Yes, she said that," Tonks said, blushing again because she hated talking about this, "but she also said that Transfiguration is a discipline, and if you knew me at all, you'd know I'm anything but bloody disciplined. I'm better with things that have an instant gratification. Potions, for instance."

"But some Potions take months, or even years ..."

"Yeah, well I'm not talking about those ones, am I? That Fireproofing Potion, though, you have to admit, Snape's face when he handed back my essay and gave me full marks ..."

"I thought that was him just reacting to how sour the place smelled after Ammaryllis Stormdark burnt hers."

"Yeah, well, either way. Transfiguration and History of Magic and Charms are going to kill me. Fortunately, I'm strong in Defense and Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, so that's bound to even out, right? I mean, when it comes to O.W.L. time?"

"The only reason you're shit at Charms is because you want an excuse for everyone in the dorm to clean up after you. And your bloody cat."

"Rubbish, and you know it. I truly am just shit at Charms."

"You tutor me in Transfiguration – you're good at it, shut it – and I'll tutor you at Charms. Deal?"

"Deal. But, we'll have to schedule around my prank planning, because now that you're a prefect, you'll have to be excluded from it."

"That's fine by me; I always hated getting roped into all that immature business, anyway."

"Immature? Since when are Dungbombs immature?"

"Since we went to Hogsmeade in third year and everybody bought some. Get some new material, Tonks."

Tonks opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a shriek. Tonks and Cynthia turned to see what the fuss was about, and they saw a flock of young boys running away from the lake.

"Oi! What's going on?" Cynthia asked as a few of them ran by. A chubby kid, who was flushed, paused. He stared at Cynthia's prefect badge warily.

"Oh, Merlin's balls; just tell us!" Tonks demanded.

"_Two boys were wading in and got pulled in by the squid_," the boy said in a rush. He gave the badge another look, and then ran after his friends.

"Bloody hell!" Cynthia exclaimed.

"We have to do something!" Tonks didn't really have a plan of action, and she looked to Cynthia for support. But Cynthia was staring off into space, hand covering mouth, clearly distressed.

Cynthia Moon was the kind of person who was very book-smart, but not the least bit practical. Cynthia Moon was one of the few people who didn't tease Tonks, and Tonks was always grateful to her. Cynthia Moon was the kind of person who got married and had a litter of kids, and while you tried to keep things going like you did when you went to school together and you always swore that you would never be torn apart, somehow you ended up torn, anyway, and it makes you sad when you think about it late at night because just because your paths went different ways, does that really mean you can't be friends anymore?

If Tonks had known that there would be a time in just a few short years when she wouldn't even know where Cynthia lived, she might have been nicer to her.

But maybe not.

"Stop fucking hyperventilating, and let's go get some help!" Tonks snapped her fingers in front of Cynthia's face. "Come on, you quakebottom!"

"All right, yeah," Cynthia said, wringing her hands, and frowning at her shoes. "Yeah."

Tonks stood, hoisted Cynthia to her feet, and dragged her along the grounds. "You're such an idiot."

"Am not." Cynthia sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Tonks stuck her tongue out at her.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Professor Kettleburn, he'll know what to do."

"We're not running straight to Dumbledore?"

"No. I mean, he'd obviously know what to do, yeah? But this, this seems rather trivial a matter to get him involved in."

"Tonks ... two boys are in the lake."

"Your point?"

Tonks hoped to catch Kettleburn outside, perhaps teaching or setting up for another lesson. But it was Saturday, the first Saturday after term had started, and that was a far-fetched wish, and by the time Tonks had walked toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest and back, there was no sign of the Professor.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, two boys are going to drown, and I'm going to go down in the history books as the worst prefect in the history of Hogwarts!" Cynthia cried.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "And some people call you self-involved ..." But the joke felt forced; Tonks knew that time was running out. She felt pressured and she couldn't really think straight. She should've suggested that they split up, that one of them go and try and help the boys while the other one ran to get a professor.

But the castle seemed so far off, and Tonks didn't trust the other little kids to get a professor, or at least to get a professor that could get to the lake in time.

"Hagrid!" Cynthia shouted, disrupting Tonks from her thoughts.

"Do you think we could get to his cabin?" Tonks asked, but as she turned to where Cynthia was staring, she saw that her question was pointless. There, lumbering towards them, boarhound by his side, was the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.

Tonks didn't know Hagrid very well, and she found him a bit intimidating, but thanks to the matter at hand, she got over her trepidation. "Hagrid!" she screamed, running at him. Cynthia had the exact same idea, and Tonks would later reflect that they probably looked crazy, arms waving, shouting.

"Calm down, yeh two," Hagrid said. "Wha'sa matter?"

"First-years – "

"Squid –"

"In the lake!"

"Oh, boy," Hagrid muttered. "Well, come on then. We'll be needin' ter get 'em out."

Tonks would never forget the way Hagrid oh-so-calmly took charge of the situation, of the way he seemed to know what to do and not even break a sweat. The way he walked to the edge of the lake and whistled, and through the water came a couple of pink tentacles wrapped around a couple of small boys.

The first-years, for their part, seemed to be fine, and mostly amused.

"I told you we shouldn't've stood so close," the smaller one with sandy hair said.

"You have to admit, it was brilliant, though," the other one said.

"What were you two thinkin' doin' that close to the lake? And you, Maggie, you know better'n to be attackin' lil' first-years," Hagrid chastised the boys and squid in turn. The boys hung their heads. The squid's tentacles disappeared beneath the black surface.

"Maggie?" Tonks said, shocked. She was feeling silly now that all the adrenaline was pumping through her veins – especially the one on her forehead. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And I know all about ridiculous names."

"Well, I couldn'a named it Mark, could I? It's a girl squid," Hagrid explained.

"Are you two all right?" Cynthia asked, getting on one knee in front of the boys, examining them closely.

"We're fine," the sandy-haired boy said.

"The squid was surprisingly gentle," said the other.


	5. Many Men and Many Muggles

Tonks took her father shopping with the idea of bonding with him. Despite the fact that she still lived at home, she hardly ever saw him – she was working all the time, he was working all the time, and it all felt very grown-up and depressing, and Gods did Tonks love watching him eat tikka masala.

"It's dripping down your chin, you idiot," she told him, waving her fork with one hand, the other holding Chapati that she tore into with her mouth. "Some people have no manners," she said, spewing crumbs.

Her father laughed, wiping his face with his napkin. "It's nice to do this." He placed his hand over Tonks's own. She dropped her fork to her plate with a _clink_ and smiled sadly.

"It really is."

"So, when are you moving out?" her father asked. "When are you going to put the final nail in the coffin of this relationship?"

"Come now." Tonks pulled her hand out from underneath her father's. "Don't spoil tonight," she warned, grinning. "It's supposed to be a Muggle fun night."

"That it is," her father said, grinning as well.

It was hard for her father, Tonks knew, balancing the Muggle world and the Magic one. Tonks didn't know if she could do it. She didn't really feel a part of the Muggle world; she felt no connection. It was just a fun place that she liked to visit. She felt like she didn't really know anything at all about Muggles, though she knew in comparison to most wizards, she was practically an expert. And there was such a disconnect. The Muggles and Wizards didn't mingle; there was no respect for Muggles, not even amongst the most Muggle-loving of Wizards. They seemed to find Muggles harmless and amusing. Tonks liked Muggles better than all that. They had some good ideas, sometimes. Electricity was fun; Tonks loved television and electric guitars.

She looked around at the Muggles eating in the restaurant. A busty blonde with a handsome business man. A family of ten stuffing their faces. They weren't so bad, these Muggles.

"Dad," she said, eyes still glued on the strangers, "when you found out you were a wizard, how did you... I mean, how did it happen? How did it all work out?"

"Well ..." Her father mulled it over. "I reckon it started when I got my acceptance letter. I've told you about that. My mother and father were convinced it was some kind of gag. They threw it away before I even saw it. And then another one came, and then another. And then Ol' McGonagall showed up at my doorstep and spoke with my parents. They didn't believe her at first, but once she turned into a cat before their very eyes, they were pretty convinced."

"Yeah, I remember all that," Tonks said. Her father hadn't really addressed what she wanted to know. Maybe he didn't understand what she was getting at, or maybe he was just avoiding talking about it. Tonks suspected the latter.

"Anyway," Tonks went on, "what's so impressive about turning into a cat? The furballs alone would be enough to turn me off."

Her father smiled wistfully. "I've always wondered what animal I would be. You know, Animagus form and all that. I know that the verdict's out on the correlation between Patronuses and them, but I've got to say, if I turned into a bear, I would be pretty happy."

Tonks's father had been the only one in his N.E.W.T. Level Defense Class to produce a Patronus, and he still bragged about it. A large bear. Tonks's mother had never made one, but Tonks just supposed that she didn't have a strong enough happy memory.

Tonks had finally conjured one during her final year of Auror training. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. "If I turned into a ferret, I don't know what I'd do with myself. Probably burrow into a hole and sleep. Merlin knows I wouldn't stand a chance against a bloody bear."

"My form is the best, isn't it?" Ted Tonks said, taking a bite of his meal and brandishing his fork about like he was conducting a marching band.

"You're a prat, Dad; I hate to say it."

"And you're a prat's daughter, so what does that make you?"

Tonks opened her mouth to make some smart ass comment, but then stopped herself when she saw the last person she'd expected to see – except that that wasn't true at all – being led to an empty table. What were the chances that he would be eating at a Muggle restaurant? She flicked her gaze back to her father, and he was staring at her intently.

"Dora, what's wrong?" he asked. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Normally Tonks would have given her father a good smack for calling her Dora, but all she could do was open and close her mouth like a fish. "Nothing's wrong," she finally managed to get out. "I'm just feeling a bit ill all of a sudden."

"Maybe we should go home," her dad said, his voice full of worry. He looked at his watch. "We're going to miss the movie, anyway."

"Yeah, let's go home," Tonks said, standing and pushing her chair back without even thinking. Her father gave her one more concerned look, and then he led the way out. As they made their way to the door, Tonks's eyes lingered on the back of her colleague's head.

It was Shacklebolt, all right, there was no hiding that physique, or that shiny bald head. But why was he here, out of all the places in the entire world?

* * *

The first time it happened, Tonks dismissed it as coincidence. The second time it happened, Tonks dismissed it as a coincidencier coincidence. By the third, fourth and fifth times, Tonks was left with no option but to admit that Kingsley Shacklebolt, big, scary Auror, was stalking her.

Everywhere she went, there he was. Every time she walked down a hallway at work, he seemed to be there. Every time she went out for lunch, he was there, every time, no matter if she changed restaurants or changed routes or changed her face. He was there.

Tonks was left with little else to do but think about Shacklebolt, and his sudden stalker tendencies, in her bed that night. It was far too early for her to sleep, so she just laid there in the dark, staring out her window. It was windy outside; the oak tree outside her window was aggressively shaking its branches. The full moon was shining through the spaces in between, illuminating Tonks's room in a spooky way.

Downstairs, she could hear music playing. Her parents were dancing. They loved to dance. And she was all alone, and confused. Tonks burrowed her face in pillow.

_Maybe he just fancies me. Maybe he's shy, and he's just trying to work up the courage to ask me out._

Tonks had to sigh at that. What self-respecting bloke would think that stalking's romantic? And besides, Shacklebolt never struck her as the shy type. He always talked to her, no problem, all brisk business and nothing else, although sometimes ... sometimes Tonks saw something in him. Sometimes his eyes twinkled. Shacklebolt wasn't all business, all the time, like he wanted people to think.

_Whatever his intent, he's playing psychological games with me, and I'm going bloody insane!_

Tonks rolled onto her other side, so the moon wouldn't taunt her anymore.

"Maybe," she whispered into the night, "maybe I should just confront the bastard myself."

And that seemed to be her only option. Tonks was an Auror for a reason, goddamnit, and she could certainly stand up to a co-worker! Even a large, scary one.

* * *

Tonks went to Fortescue's because she loved ice cream, and because the outdoor tables were perfect for confrontations. It was her lunch break, and she probably should have been eating something more substantial, but this was her plan, goddamnit, and she was going to follow through. If only her hands could stop shaking.

She didn't bother wearing a disguise today. She wore her short, pink hair, and her heart-shaped face, though her eyes were green. She didn't have a mirror, and she didn't really want to make them green, but the ice cream she'd gotten was such a lovely shade of green that Tonks could feel her eyes change all by themselves. It was nice of her body to let her know when it chose to morph, she decided, even if it didn't always want to let her in on the process.

And then, there he was, walking into the parlor as well, going up to the counter, ordering a cone. He came outside, and sat at the table next to Tonks. He didn't look at her. She could've screamed.

She stomped over to him, fuming, hair turning red, she just knew it. "What the hell's your problem?" She waved her spoon. A bit of her ice cream landed on his head. She blushed and then threw up her arms, hitting the table's umbrella, causing it to fold down. What followed next was a complicated bit of slapstick that even I'm at a loss to describe.

First, an umbrella stem hit Tonks in the head, which caused her to fall on top of Kingsley, which caused him to fall forward, face first into his cone. Then his forehead hit the table, and then the table flipped up, and then the chair turned over, and then Tonks and Kingsley hit the ground.

Tonks had never felt more embarrassed in her life, so of course she opened her mouth.

"I'll pay you back for the cone," she offered.

Shacklebolt didn't look amused.


	6. Auror Training

Tonks was still feeling a bit light-headed from meeting Amelia Bones when she made her way into the room. She wasn't the last to arrive – Simon Fraser would dawdle in a few moments later – but she was the one Kingsley Shacklebolt attacked.

"As I've just told the rest of the class, coming in late is inexcusable." He walked over to where she had tried to slip in towards the back inconspicuously. He held his hands behind him and stared down at her. "Leniency given today will not be repeated. If you come in late for duty, you will lose your job, and there's a damn good reason for that. We're Aurors, we're trying to help people, and it's pretty hard to help people if you're not there to be of help." (Shacklebolt was downright poetic, sometimes.)

All Tonks could do was stare up at him; she could feel the rest of class's eyes on her, but she couldn't break away from his gaze. Was he challenging her? Trying to make her break? Tonks felt like crying, but she was the kind of person who could very easily cry but hated to show weakness at any cost and it seemed her whole life was a walking contradiction and she suddenly found her mouth very, very dry.

After an eternity, Shacklebolt looked away. "What's your name, cadet?"

"Tonks," she said. He waved his hands, and a piece of parchment and a quill appeared and he seemed to be taking some kind of roll. "Nymphadora?" he asked, presumably for clarification.

"Are there any other Tonkses on there?" she asked, and then she flushed when Shacklebolt whipped his head around to glare at her. She couldn't help herself. The comments just came out. In her fourth year, McGonagall had written an angry letter to her parents, saying that she believed Tonks didn't think before she spoke, but Tonks really didn't know what that was supposed to accomplish because by that point she and her parents had long since accepted that fact.

Shacklebolt turned away from her and walked back to the front of the room. "All right, cadets," he said. "Today is your first day of training. We will be covering some of the basic theories and practices of Aurordom, and, more specifically, make sure that you understand what is expected of you." He turned somber. "It's a difficult job, I am not going to lie. The pay is probably not worth it." A ghost of smile lit up his face. "The hours are unbearable. You will have no social lives to speak of." He grew quiet. "But it's worth it; if you just help one wizard, it's worth it."

Tonks puffed up in her chair, suddenly feeling important. Most of the others in the room did, too, she noticed.

"I hate to say," Shacklebolt said, looking somewhat amused, "that most of you will not make it through basic training. Most of you will probably never become fully-qualified Aurors. You've been accepted into the programs because of your O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores and whatever other criteria you met." Kingsley looked at her pointedly then, Tonks just knew it, and she wondered if he knew, if everyone in the Auror department _knew, _and if they thought she didn't get the job on her merits. Sometimes Tonks found herself thinking that she didn't get the job on her merits. "But doing well on your exams does not ensure that you have the stamina and personality for this field. It's difficult. Don't think for a moment that it isn't. Do not for a moment take anything for granted, because that's the moment you'll lose your footing."

That was the moment in the speech when Fraser came in, and he tried to scoot past Tonks to sit in the chair next to her, but somehow Tonks got her work cloak caught underneath the seat, and so when she pulled her chair forward she choked herself and coughed loudly, and then everyone turned to look at her, and she tried quickly to pull her cloak from beneath the chair leg, but pulled too aggressively and ended up flinging herself out of her chair.

One person chuckled, and then the whole room burst into a rather quiet, but still existent, laughter.

"_Tonks _..." Shacklebolt said in an exhausted kind of voice that he would later reserve just for her.

* * *

Tonks sat in the seat in front of Scrimgeour's desk, sweating a storm, on the brink of dehydration. She wondered about sweat glands, and fat glands, and if, maybe, just maybe, she knew more about biology she could control certain parts of her better.

"Tonks," he finally said. "There's no doubt you'll be an asset to our program."

Tonks tried to look pleased at that, but it was rather hard to when all her gut instincts were saying that he wanted her because she could shift her face, not because she was actually going to be good at being an Auror.

"But I do have a question for you."

"Yes?" she said, surprised she could speak at all.

"It says here that you were a Hufflepuff. Not that I have any problems with Hufflepuffs," he said hurriedly, but Tonks wasn't offended all that much. "It's just that very few Hufflepuffs have found success in our Auror program.

"I was wondering about how life for you was in Hufflepuff house, and how you think being a Hufflepuff gives you an advantage in this field." He sat back then, and gave Tonks a look like he expected her to give a deep, thoughtful, intellectual answer. He clearly didn't know her very well.

* * *

"Nymphadora Tonks," McGonagall said. Tonks looked over at Charlie Weasley, who she had ridden the train with. He gave her a thumbs up. She looked over at the Gryffindor table. Jane Henshaw, the other girl in their compartment, was already seated. She was staring at the ceiling in awe.

Tonks looked back to McGonagall, and somehow, magically, her feet moved themselves; she certainly wasn't trying to walk on _purpose. _

Somehow, she sat down on the stool. Somehow, the hat ended up on her head.

_What an interesting mind._

Tonks wasn't dumb, and she knew that 'interesting' is what you say when you want to sound complimentary but are actually being insulting. The hat thought she was stupid.

_No, you're not stupid, though you don't seem to care too much for schoolwork._

And she wasn't brave, so Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were out.

_One does not have to be brave in the traditional sense to be brave at all._

Well, what does that mean? She thought they'd established that she wasn't all that smart.

_For someone who isn't smart, you are very witty. And ambitious._

Slytherin? Tonks didn't know what to make of that. Although her mother seemed to hate her family, she did seem rather fond of her old house.

_But you're also very kind, and you're very loyal._

Tonks was sure she would make someone a good pet someday.

_What do you want?_

Friends.

_Better make it ... "_HUFFLEPUFF!"

* * *

She was now drowning in sweat.

She was gripping the arms of her chair so tightly, she was going to break them.

She imagined them breaking, and the shards flying around the room. One would hit Scrimgeour in the eye. He would lose his sight. He would be like Mad-Eye.

It seemed an awfully embarrassing way to lose an eye, though, as far as losing your eye goes.

Tonks wondered if she could change her vision. She'd never tried to shift her eyeball shape before. She didn't know if she could. Once again, her knowledge of biology was failing her.

She was in an ocean of sweat, breathing it in, and it was getting into her lungs.

It seemed almost treasonous, being killed by something your body made for you.

Tonks realized that Scrimgeour was still looking at her, and expecting an answer.

"I dunno," she finally said. She didn't even mean to say it.

* * *

"You've made it through your first four weeks of training. You've mastered basic theories and laws, and you now know what you can and cannot do as an Auror – in theory." Tonks snickered at Shacklebolt's eloquence, but he ignored her. "But today we will be starting the toughest part of your training, the physical training. Keep in mind that this is where we will be testing your combatant abilities and the way you deal with Auror theory when presented with a real criminal wizard.

"To talk with you about it, I welcome legendary Auror, Alastor Moody."

Tonks had never seen Mad-Eye Moody before. She'd heard of him, of course, usually in the articles in the Prophet she sometimes read when she woke up before breakfast was ready and her father had moved onto the funny pages, and so she was left with nothing but the boring columns while her father laughed his ass off at Marvin Miggs.

But that was nothing compared to seeing Moody in the flesh, so to speak. He face looked like it had taken fifty million hits from a Bludger. His nose looked it was trying to escape from his face (and a chunk of it had succeeded). His glass eye was fantastic; it swirled around the room and stayed on each of them for a split second – except, Tonks noticed, for herself. _Why didn't he look at me?_

Shacklebolt seemed to find this entertaining. "What do you think of the recruits, Moody?"

"A true group of reprobates if I ever seen one," he said, also somewhat good-naturedly, but then, before Tonks could even blink, he'd pulled out his wand and put the tip right against the throat of the student in front of him – Eric Wood. Wood looked cross-eyed down at the wand, and then gulped.

"What we have here," Moody said, enunciating carefully and putting his wand away, "is a lack of vigilance." He paced a bit, staring at the students before him, frowning, and no one said a thing, or even breathed, and the only sound in the whole room was the sound of Moody's wooden leg hitting the floor.

"So you want to be Aurors, hmmm?" Moody scoffed, and shook his head. "You're not fit to be Aurors. Do you think just anybody can be an Auror? The entrance exam alone has failed many men. Tell 'em, Kingsley."

"It's true. The exam has a less than 50% passing rate."

"Less than 50%!" Moody growled. "Tell 'em how long it's been since someone's been admitted to the program."

"Five years," Shacklebolt said.

"Five years!" Moody exclaimed, waving his wand around. Everyone in the room looked at each other, and it wasn't all that hard because there weren't many of them left. Moody noticed that.

"How many started the program, Shacklebolt?"

"There were about thirty."

"How many are there now?"

"Eleven."

"You lost twenty people in a month's worth of training, is what you're saying, Shacklebolt?"

"Yes."

"How many months of training are left?"

"There are two more months of basic training, and then there's two years of field training."

"So, if you lose twenty in the first month, how many do you think you'll lose this month?"

"In theory, even more. The first month was the easy one."

"In theory, none of these kids stand a chance?"

"In theory."

Tonks was torn between rolling her eyes and throwing up.


	7. And a Feline Funeral

The night before Tonks's eleventh birthday, she had her face pressed against the bay window in the parlor while her parents talked quietly in the next room. Tonks really wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but for some reason she wanted to be nearby while they discussed her.

She knew that was what they were talking about, of course. She was set to go to Hogwarts in almost exactly a month, and her powers were still all over the place. Every young witch and wizard had incidents and accidents, had moments where their emotions got the better of them and things just seemed to go wrong, or, at least, that was what her parents said. But Tonks knew in her heart that things didn't usually go like this. Most witches her age probably weren't dyeing their father's skin red over a stupid row about Quidditch. Or maybe they were, but not this often. That was the problem, Tonks mused. Not the scope of the spontaneous acts of magic, but the frequency.

Every day, something happened. Yesterday, Tonks had given her mother tentacles. It was that which caused her mother to remark that Tonks had a knack for changing people's appearance, and Tonks figured that was only fair, since she still didn't have hers down.

She tried not to think about that, but the thought wormed its way through her brain, stopping at her stomach, leaving her nauseous and nervous. She still couldn't control her morphing. Her hair, her eye color, her height – Tonks never knew what she was going to see when she looked in the mirror. She usually looked like a little girl, and there was a consistency to that appearance. Her face, her lips, her eyes were usually the same shape. But her nose changed often, and so did her ears. And Tonks hated to think about that week when she was eight, when she looked like a little boy for some reason.

Her body didn't morph much, either. Her legs usually looked the same, and her feet were a wonderful constant. But sometimes the weight shifted and sometimes she could see her ribs more clearly than others. One time, while playing out with her dad in the yard, Tonks had twisted her ankle. Her father had gotten down on his hands and knees to inspect the damage, and when he pulled up her jeans leg and pulled down her sock, they both gasped at the way the bone was pressing against the skin.

"I can put it back," Tonks said, feeling strangely confident at nine.

"It looks like a nasty break," her father said, ignoring her comment.

"I didn't break it," Tonks said, and she didn't know how she knew that, but she did.

"You didn't?" her father asked. Tonks nodded.

"The bone just moved on its own. I felt it."

"That's called a break, sweetheart."

"I didn't break it, Dad. I shifted it somehow on accident. Look." And then Tonks squeezed her eyes shut, and somehow thought of that bone, and she felt it pop back into place. When she opened her eyes, her father was still holding her ankle, but it looked normal now.

"That's a handy trick," he said. "And you're lucky, because I'm rubbish at Healing Spells."

Her father helped her up and walked her inside, and Tonks felt proud at that moment; for the first time, she felt as if she truly knew how to deal with her morphing.

But she hated to think of what the kids at Hogwarts were going to say when they found out she was a Meta... When she thought of the things the little old witches said when her mum took her out shopping...

She was distracted from her thoughts by something moving in the yard. She squinted and cupped her hands around her eyes to get a better look at things. It wasn't often that she saw animals out in the field. Her mother's wards kept everything out but flies, her father had once said, and Tonks agreed.

Whatever it was, it was slithering around the base of the oak tree. After staring at it for several moments, Tonks concluded that it was a black cat.

A cat.

Tonks grinned. She'd always wanted a pet. And now, out of all the places in the world, a cat had shown up in her yard.

She looked toward the kitchen, the door slightly ajar, and she could make out her father's shadow and the flickering light of a lamp. She didn't know how to convince her parents that she deserved a pet. Every time she brought it up, her father had seemed to be on her side, but her mother was always steadfastly against it.

But the Hogwarts letter had said she could bring a familiar, and besides, what her parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them. This way, she thought as she ran upstairs to her room, she could ensure that she would have at least _one _friend at Hogwarts.

She opened the latch on her window. The branch stretched right to her, a beckoning hand. She took a wobbly step onto it, and when it seemed to hold her weight, she wrapped her arms around the body of it and began to crawl. She looked down; she could see the cat in the shadows, staring up at her with beady, yellow eyes.

"Hello, kitty," Tonks said. "Would you like to be my pet?"

The cat meowed. Tonks grinned.

"I knew you would." She crawled a bit more, and then gasped when she lost her balance for a bit. "Ahh!" She tightened her grip on the tree branch.

The cat meowed again. Tonks tried to move, but ended up falling upside down. She hung there for almost a minute. "Hurry, Cat," she said, spitting hair out of her mouth. "Go get my parents."

The cat just looked at her.

The bark was making her fingers burn, and Tonks didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

She shut her eyes, and let go.

She hit the ground and heard her ankle crack. Her head bounced against a rock. She groaned.

She heard a meow, and felt the cat kneading her shirt, and then she heard the door open.

"Nymphadora!" her mother exclaimed.

Tonks tried to open her eyes, and she saw a sliver of moonlight, but then everything went black.

* * *

The Auror trainees were anxious as they followed Mad-Eye Moody down a hallway at the Ministry. They walked past the cubicles where the current Aurors worked, and a few stuck their heads out and looked at them.

There were only five of them left now – Tonks could barely believe it. Maybe, she thought, if I just hold out, I'll make it into the program by default.

It seemed a bit optimistic, but Tonks had made it to field training; she was allowed a little optimism.

"Hurry up," Moody said irritably. Tonks couldn't tell if he was in a worse mood than usual.

He was leading them out of the Ministry and down the street. The cars drove past, and the Muggles paid them no heed, which Tonks found a bit surprising, given the way they were dressed. She knew that most Wizards didn't even care, but Tonks also knew that Muggles could be observant. Like her Gran's friends, who had started asking how her son's family always managed to arrive less than a minute after they told her they were dropping by.

Tonks also noted that Moody was wearing a hat over his eye, so he was at least exercising _some _caution. And then, as if he were reading her mind, he said, "Don't ever underestimate Muggles. They may not be able to do magic, but they're far from stupid. And they're far from safe."

Eckles, another one of the Auror cadets, chuckled next to Tonks. "He's absolutely barmy."

Tonks frowned. "I think he's right."

Eckles gave her a look, but then shrugged.

"We're going to be taking a Portkey to our training session." Moody stopped in front of a rusty can, lying on the sidewalk. "Here's as good a time as any to tell you about Portkey laws. They're very extensive, and complicated, and illegal Portkeys are almost impossible to prove once they've been used. There's proof in the Trace Office, but good luck getting the files. That place is a bloody mess."

Tonks couldn't hide her smile. She loved when Moody talked bluntly about the Ministry's flaws.

"You should also check any Portkey before you take it. Unfortunately, there's no way to tell exactly where a Portkey's supposed to take you. Only trust Portkeys you make yourself, that's what I say. Also, you may want to test any object you find to see if it's a Portkey."

"_Any _object we find?" Akim, another cadet said, shocked. "Isn't that a bit overzealous?"

Moody narrowed his eyes. "Would you rather be overzealous or dead?"

Tonks held up a hand. "I know which one _I _would pick!"

Moody grunted at her, but went back to the can. "Portkey travel is unreliable in the sense that placing too much importance on an object can be dangerous. If this can were to disintegrate, the Portkey enchantment would wear off. If you're trying to get somewhere, it's best to Apparate, but, then again, you can't do that if you can't picture the place, and that includes being there, so if you need to go somewhere, you might as well just place a ruddy Portkey there while you're at it.

"It's also worth noting that you should put as many unnoticeable charms on your Portkeys as possible. The last thing you want is for a Muggle to accidentally take it."

"What happens if they do?" Eckles asked.

"They die," Moody said curtly. "Muggles' bodies can't handle Portkey travel or Apparation."

"Why is that?" Tonks asked.

"Don't know," Moody grunted. "I'm an Auror, not a magical theorist."

"Are there such things?" Tonks wondered. Moody gave her the stink-eye, and Tonks could tell he was losing patience.

Still, he said, "Not by trade."

"Why not?" Larkin, another trainee, asked.

Moody slammed his foot down. "Because you can't make any bloody money at it! Now everyone grab the Portkey, and let's go!"

"Should we, though?" Tonks asked, because she couldn't help herself. "I mean, we didn't make it ourselves, did we? Is it trustworthy?"

Moody's regular eye stayed glued on something indiscernible in the distance, but Tonks could imagine his mad eye spinning wildly under his bowler hat. And then he rounded on her, and she swore he was going to hex her, or at least dismiss her from the lesson.

Instead, he motioned his wand over the can.

"Do the tests, Tonks. See if it's secure."

* * *

Tonks named her cat Babou, at her father's suggestion. She was old, her black fur more a faded grey, with a large chunk missing out of her right ear. Tonks's mother said she appeared to be a wild cat, and she worried that she wouldn't adjust to life with an owner.

Her father said that if her mother thought that cats truly had owners, then she didn't understand cats at all.

Babou came with Tonks on the Hogwarts Express.

Tonks wasn't nervous during the ride to King's Cross. Her father was driving his car, ecstatic that her mother had allowed him to take it out. "Isn't she incredible?" he asked, rubbing the dashboard tenderly.

Her mother was gripping the passenger side door handle, and her eyes were screwed shut. "I don't understand these contraptions," she said. "I don't like them one bit."

Tonks sat in the backseat; Babou sprawled across her lap, not at all phased by the bumps of the road. "I'm not nervous," Tonks said, looking down at her, straight into her yellow eyes. "Not even a little."

Babou nudged Tonks's nose with her own before yawning and putting her chin back on her knee. She went to sleep.

"Are we almost there? I'm afraid I'm going to be sick."

"Come now, Rommie. You can ride a broom, but not in a car?"

"Yes, Ted. I can ride a broom, but not in a car. How did you guess?"

"You must not be that sick, if you can still be sarcastic."

"I'm going to be sick all over you, if you don't shut it. Now turn that cool air on me before I faint," her mother said, never opening her eyes. Her dad chuckled, but still did as he was instructed.

* * *

Tonks wasn't doing very well.

She missed every target.

She tripped over her shoelaces.

The boggart made her freeze up.

It was hard to see, with all the tears in her eyes.

"Tonks!" Shacklebolt shouted. "Tonks, get over her _now_!"

Tonks dragged her way over to him.

"What's the matter, cadet? I would've thought that an obstacle course would be right up your alley. You're good at thinking on your feet."

Tonks didn't even register the compliment. She stared at the ground. Her hair was long and black and getting in her eyes.

"What the matter, cadet?" Shacklebolt repeated.

"It's nothing," Tonks said listlessly. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound very fine. Look at me, will you."

Tonks did. She sniffed.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Do you need to go home?"

"No, sir."

"Then what's the matter, cadet? If something's affecting your work, you should let me know what it is."

Tonks tried to blink back the tears, but she didn't completely succeed.

"It's ... It's stupid."

"What's stupid?" Shacklebolt seemed to be growing irritated.

"My cat, sir."

"What about it?"

"She died."

"Died?"

"Yes."

The corner of Shacklebolt's mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Tonks looked back down at the ground.

"Will you be all right?" Shacklebolt asked.

Tonks nodded.

"All right, then," he said hesitantly. "You best get back to training."

"Yes, sir."


	8. There's Another Side

A hag from a neighboring table looked up from her spellbook. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yes," Kingsley said. With a flick of his wand, the umbrella pulled itself off of them and set back into place at the table. Tonks's head hurt from where the particularly aggressive stem had clonked her.

Shacklebolt helped her to her feet, and she noticed that several people were staring at them, and Fortescue himself was coming out of the shop, wiping his heads on his cloak, frowning.

"Everything's fine," Kingsley assured him with a raised hand, but Fortescue gave Tonks a long look before nodding and going back inside.

Once everyone went back to their business, Tonks saw Shacklebolt glaring down at her.

"You ruin everything, Tonks," he growled.

"What do you bloody mean?" Tonks spat back. "You're the one who's been stalking me."

Shacklebolt shook his head. "I can't deal with this right now. I'll see you later. In a week or so." And then he was gone, and Tonks tried to catch him, but he had Disapparated before she had even gathered her wits.

* * *

Every time Tonks saw Shacklebolt around the office, she couldn't help but wonder if she should say something to him.

He was persistently avoiding her gaze.

One day, while running an errand, she saw Shacklebolt and Dawlish talking by the fountain. She quickly made a decision.

"Kingsley!" she said, walking up to him like an old friend. "How's the Black case going?"

Dawlish raised an eyebrow at her. Kingsley shot her daggers with his eyes.

"It's none of your business, Tonks. Go back to work."

Tonks felt her cheeks flush pink at being so crudely shot down, and she walked away with her gaze down. She heard Dawlish laugh.

* * *

Two days later, she passed Shacklebolt on the way to the loo. He met her eyes.

"Want to embarrass me again?" she asked.

He frowned, but all he said was, "If I were you, Tonks, I'd avoid looking interested in the Black case."

* * *

A few days later, Tonks was shocked to find Mad-Eye Moody in her cubicle, staring at her desk.

"Invading my privacy?" she asked. He turned around at her.

"What have you got there, missy?" He gestured to the files in her hands. "You're not working on a case, are you?"

"No," Tonks replied, pouting. "All they've got me doing is bloody paperwork."

"Good," Moody said. "Next time you see me and Shacklebolt out, come and say hello."

Tonks was thrown by the straightforward request.

"Excuse me?" she asked. She grinned. "Do you and Kingsley plan on spending a lot of time together?"

Moody didn't laugh. "It's best not to discuss this at the moment," he said brusquely, stomping past her and out of her cubicle. She stared after him.

* * *

Two and half days after that, Tonks saw Shacklebolt and Moody eating lunch at the Muggle restaurant she frequented with her father. She was there, getting lunch herself, and she debated about what to do.

Finally, she slowly made her way over to them.

"Er, hello," she said.

"Tonks," Shacklebolt said, smiling. "What a wonderful coincidence! Sit down; Alastor and I were just eating bhinda ni kadhi."

"Who doesn't love bhinda?" Tonks asked mechanically, sitting down. She saw Moody discretely wave his wand under the table, and she realized he cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm. He was being extremely careful; he was even wearing his hat again.

She slammed her fist down on the table. "Okay, what the bloody hell's going on?"

"You watch your mouth, girly," Moody grunted. "You've done nothing but ruin everything –"

"What am I ruining?" she cried. "The least you could do is tell me what I'm bloody ruining!"

"What's going on is that I'm starting to regret this whole thing." Shacklebolt sighed. "You can't do anything according to plan, can you, Tonks?"

"What plan?" Tonks exclaimed.

"Today's the last day you two'll be seen with me," Moody said. "Can't risk rousing suspicion. There's bloody ears all over the place." He looked around at the Muggles warily.

Tonks furrowed her brow. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is war," Moody said. "And you better make it known which side you're on."

"What do you mean?" Tonks felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head. "Is You-Know-Who really back?"

Neither Shacklebolt nor Moody answered her straight away. Shacklebolt kept his eyes on the napkin dispenser.

"We shouldn't be having this conversation here."

"Well, where else would we be having it?" Moody took a swig from his hip flask. "We can't very well sneak off to Tonks's house. That would look far more suspicious than casually running into the girl at lunch."

Shacklebolt smirked. "I've tried to casually run into Tonks twenty times now. She's easy to avoid."

Tonks flushed. "I thought you were stalking me."

Shacklebolt laughed, and Tonks wasn't sure she'd ever heard a stranger sound. "I was, in a way. It wouldn't have killed you to say hello to me."

"If anyone asks, or if anyone notices the way you've followed her around, just excuse it by saying you're sweet on her," Moody advised.

"That _was_ one of the notions I entertained," Tonks admitted. "But what about you, Moody? What am I to say if people notice you around me? Are you my sweetheart, too?"

Moody didn't look amused. "Like I said, after today, I'll no longer be talking to either of you. It's important you two appear to know nothing."

"That'll be very easy in my case," Tonks said.

Shacklebolt stared at her intensely. "Look here, Tonks. Things are getting messy, especially with the Ministry. Scrimgeour's speech was just the first in a long line of Dominoes, you understand?"

"I understand the Muggle reference, yes," Tonks said. "But the analogy itself flew over my head."

He frowned. "I mean that the anti-Dumbledore sentiment is just going to get worse. Our lives will be made very difficult if it becomes apparent that we're even thinking that he might be right."

Tonks let the reality of the words wash over her. "So ... you think Dumbledore's right," she said slowly.

Shacklebolt didn't answer the question; he didn't have to.

"The question of the matter is whether Shacklebolt and I were right about you, missy," Moody said, and Tonks could envision his eye swirling about in his head. "Aurors are good for the cause, but not if they can't keep their traps shut. That's a big problem of yours."

Tonks flushed again. And then, "What do you mean? What cause? If Dumbledore says that You-Know-Who's back, I believe him," she said, surprising herself. She didn't even realize it was true until the words came out of her mouth.

She leaned back into her seat. "He's really back, isn't he? What are we going to do? How the hell are we going to stop him? I don't want things to turn out like they did the first time!"

"Let's not get excited," Shacklebolt cautioned with a wave of his hand. "It's important not to make a scene."

"At this rate, the Muggles'll know what's going on before the bloody Ministry does," Moody muttered. He looked at the Muggles again.

"Anything interesting?" Shacklebolt asked.

"There are a couple of waiters going at it in the loo," Moody grunted. "But other than that, there's nothing to report."

Shacklebolt laughed again. "You still think we should _Obliviate _the whole lot?"

"I don't know what you think's so bleeding funny." Moody scowled. " 'salways better to be safe than sorry."

"I agree," Shacklebolt said. "But our main objective is to lay low. There's no way the mysterious disappearance of thirty Muggles' memories wouldn't garner some major attention."

"Under Fudge's reign, I wouldn't be surprised."

Shacklebolt grinned, and Tonks noted that he had very large, very white, intimidating teeth. "Fair point. Fudge is an imbecile."

Tonks, who had been feeling left out of the exchange, jumped in. "I think Bones should be Minister."

"She'd never do it," Moody countered. "She knows how corrupted the system is. That's the problem. Slytherins are the bloody ambitious ones."

"So what was the cause you two were talking about earlier?" Tonks grabbed Shacklebolt's bowl and took a slurp. It _was _still her lunch break.

He shook his head. "Not here. I just wanted to gauge your interest."

Tonks set the kadhi down and wiped off her mouth with her sleeve. "I'm _very_ interested!"

"This isn't all fun and games, and don't you go thinking it is," Moody warned. "You're young, but you're not stupid, so don't go making us look foolish. We vouched for you."

"Vouched for me where?" Tonks pressed.

"What part of 'not here' don't you understand?" Kingsley said. "I'll talk to you later."

"What would you two have done if I wasn't interested?"

Kingsley smiled grimly. "Let's just say that I think one Memory Charm is far less conspicuous."


	9. Morphology

In her second year, Tonks came across a book called _Morphology _in the Hogwarts library. Mistakenly thinking it was about Metamorphmagi, she checked it out. It was, in fact, about English, and Tonks read the entire thing from front to back.

She became obsessed with words, and syntax, and etymology, and grammar. Language, she mused, was the one thing that connected Muggles and Wizards. She had some lofty ideas about using that as a bridge, but nothing substantial.

* * *

It was in Tonks's third year that she first became aware of the fact that anti-Muggle sentiment existed. A nasty Slytherin had called Cynthia the M-word, and Cynthia had hid out in the Come-And-Go Room and cried her eyes out, missing four classes in the process.

"It's not even true," she'd insisted when Tonks came by to comfort her. "My mother's a Muggle, but my father's just a Squib; everyone else in his family can do magic just fine."

Tonks tried to explain her theories about Language, and Unity, to Cynthia, but she must not have made any sense.

"Tonks," Cynthia said slowly, "you're not making any sense."

"I know that. I wish I was more eloquent. But I'm as clumsy with words as I am with my bloody feet."

Cynthia sniffed. "You are very, very clumsy."

Tonks sighed. "You know, Mark Twain gave some advice – I mean, writing advice – and said that once you finished a story, you should go through and strikethrough every instance of 'very' because it's a dreadfully useless word."

"What is?"

"Very."

"Very what?"

"Never mind, Cyn." Tonks furrowed her brow. "But English in general is filled with useless words, isn't it? We use modifiers and fillers and all that all the time, don't we?"

"I suppose," Cynthia said, but she could not have sounded less sure.

"And most spells ... Granted, they're all psychologically-based. That's why they use Latin bases and whatnot."

"Right."

"And people judge you ... They judge you based on your words, just like they judge you based on your hair color. And they use words to hurt you. Like calling you a Mudblood."

"But I'm not a Mudblood!"

"... I know, Cyn."

Tonks was on a path to something, she knew, but she had no idea what.

* * *

It was in Tonks's fourth year that Charlie Weasley invited her to sneak out with him and practice Quidditch. It was midnight, and October.

It was very, very, very, very cold.

Tonks was Keeper. Charlie threw balls at her. He made a lot of goals. Tonks was miserable.

He asked Tonks to fly up and look at something.

The stars were gorgeous.

Tonks was going to make a joke, about how a sight like that could make a girl fall off of her broom, because she was so clumsy, but she was far too cold.

Charlie asked her to come closer, and then he kissed her.

Tonks was shocked. She felt like it had happened while she was out.

She wanted to ask what the hell that was. She wanted to ask him if he fancied her. She wanted to ask him if he thought that Hufflepuff even stood a chance against Gryffindor. But nothing came out.

She was so very, very cold.

He said, "Let's go inside, I'm hungry," which was not what Tonks expected the first bloke that kissed her to say afterwards, but somehow, she nodded, and she followed him to the ground, and she put the school broom she was using back in the broom cupboard, and Charlie put the Quaffle back into the box, and they walked back to the castle, and Tonks was very confused.

They went to the kitchens and the elves gave them chocolate cake. Tonks kept looking at Charlie out of the corner of her eye. Did he want to be her boyfriend? She didn't know. She didn't know what she was supposed to do next.

"Boyfriend" itself was such a heavy word, with a heavy connotations, and heavy implications, and Charlie Weasley was, frankly, the most popular boy in school. Maybe he had just wanted to snog her. Maybe, she thought, I'm so bad at kissing that Charlie pecked me and then changed his mind.

Merlin, she hoped that that wasn't true.

When they finished their slices, Charlie said, "I'm not looking forward to sneaking past Filch to get back to Gryffindor tower."

"I could set off some Dungbombs as a distraction, if you'd like."

Charlie smiled very handsomely. "No, thanks. I'd rather you not incriminate yourself to save me, noble cause as it may be. G'night, Tonks."

"Good night, Charlie," she said. He left her all alone, in front of the entrance to her dormitory.

* * *

It was in Tonks's fifth year that she started wearing her hair in neon colors. Before that, she had always experimented with her looks, but when she was fifteen, pink became her signature, especially since she found that she could now hold her shifts longer than ever before.

She also tripped over her feet, constantly. Her motor skills were getting worse with age, and several people noticed, including Peeves the Poltergeist, who seemed to go out of his way to trip her up. Sometimes she swore he would hide out in the armor and wait, just so he could hold out a leg when she walked past.

The Fat Friar told her that he had asked Peeves to leave her alone, but that just made him more determined. Tonks didn't blame the friendly ghost, and told him as much. "It is quite, all right, kind sir; your intentions were pure. Many courtesies. You are a swell gent."

Tonks had started circling every phrase she liked in classic literature, and tried to implement them in her daily life. This often brought laughs from people, especially when Tonks grew a black, handlebar moustache to accompany the dialogue. There was just something inherently funny about a girl with long pink hair and a handlebar moustache talking like some 18th century reject.

Except to Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Tonks," she said, looking up from her desk to where Tonks stood in the doorway.

"Wot cheer, my dear lady. Might I enquire about my summons?"

McGonagall didn't smile. "If you would take a seat, Miss Tonks, I will tell you why I've called you to my office."

Tonks sat, and tried to look dignified, but fear outweighed any semblance of dignity in her body. Her shoulders slouched, and her leg began jiggling nervously. Her moustache itched.

"Miss Tonks, the reason that you are here is because you have grown increasingly disruptive in my classroom in the past few weeks. You fancy yourself something of a clown and a prankster, but, I assure you, the only person you're amusing is yourself."

"I wouldn't gather that from the laughs," Tonks said. McGonagall glared at her. She closed her mouth.

"Miss Tonks, I have dealt with plenty of troublemakers in my time. If you want to go toe-to-toe with me, you will lose."

Professor McGonagall had never sounded so menacing.

"I wasn't really trying to disrupt. "

"Your intentions hardly matter," McGonagall said, though she now sounded less harsh. "I also wished to talk to you about your marks."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I have here your latest essay." McGonagall pulled a piece of parchment out of the top drawer of her desk. Tonks recognized it as hers – she had spilled syrup on it while rushing to finish it at breakfast before class. She guessed she didn't do very well on it.

"Would you read the grade at the top, Miss Tonks?"

Tonks peered at the paper and gasped.

McGonagall sighed. "This is one of the most poorly-constructed essays I've ever read, Miss Tonks, and I've been teaching for quite a while."

"I ..."

"Miss Tonks, you're hardly incompetent, and you're obviously gifted at language." McGonagall gave the essay a wry look. "You managed to fill up twenty inches without even addressing the question at hand."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but maybe I'm just not talented at Transfiguration. That's hardly the end of the world, is it?"

McGonagall gazed at her shrewdly, and didn't speak for several moments.

"Miss Tonks, do you want to be the first Metamorphmagus in the history of Hogwarts to not receive an 'O' on your Transfiguration O.W.L?"

Tonks blinked. "The first? You mean ... all the others ...?"

"Yes, Tonks. All the others."

"But ... I mean ..."

"I didn't want it to come to this, Tonks, but I will be very difficult with you if that's what it takes to get through your head."

"Difficult?"

"First, I want you to re-write this poor excuse of an essay. I will accept no less than an Outstanding one, and if so, I'll give you a grade of Acceptable for the assignment. Anything less, and you fail. I will also insist that you spend one night a week in my office with me, to work on your assignments for this class."

"Now that's not bloody fair!"

"Two points from Hufflepuff for language. And what isn't fair, Miss Tonks?"

"You're doling out detentions when I haven't done anything wrong! How vexing!"

McGonagall's top lip quirked up. "Miss Tonks, as I have just told you, you've been very disruptive in my class. I also know for a fact that you've snuck out after hours several times. I declined to refer to our weekly meetings as 'detentions' before, but, if the terminology suits you, then, by all means, go ahead."

Tonks sat there, flabbergasted. "Professor Sprout ..."

"I've already consulted with your Head of House. She agrees with your punishment." McGonagall gave Tonks another piercing look. "Whether you want to look at it as punishment or tutoring is up to you, Miss Tonks. But your skill level is far below your classmates'. I've overlooked it until now, but I simply cannot any longer. If you wish to continue onto your N.E.W.T.s, you will be in this office, every Tuesday at five o'clock."

"But Quidditch ..."

"The Hufflepuff team practices on Wednesdays, Miss Tonks; however, if, for some reason, you have practice on a Tuesday, feel free to talk with me beforehand to reschedule. I am not trying to be unreasonable."

Tonks couldn't help but feel that McGonagall w_as _being very unreasonable. She wondered how she knew that she wanted to take Transfiguration N.E.W.T.s, she wondered if Professor Sprout told her that she wanted to be an Auror. If so, that was a complete and gross invasion of her privacy, Tonks thought. It didn't even matter that Professor McGonagall would have found out eventually.

And was she really so far behind her classmates? Tonks had to admit, she had taken to not even trying in class. She'd wave her wand once, and when the goblet didn't turn into a rat or what-have-you, she'd just read her books and forget where she was.

"But Cynthia said I'm good at Transfiguration."

"You _are_ good at it. You refuse to learn how to do it, but you've obviously got the ability for it. Miss Tonks, do you think I was lying on that first day of class, when I said Metamorphmagi were talented in this field? Do you think I am lying to you right now, when I say that every other Metamorphmagus that has attended Hogwarts has obtained an 'O' on their O.W.L.? Why you are so resistant to this subject in particular, I have no idea, but if you want anyone to take you seriously at all as an Auror, you will come on Tuesdays."

Without even meaning to, McGonagall had hit on Tonks's sore spot. She had spent the last Christmas with the Moon family, and when Cynthia's mum had called her quirky, Tonks had quickly corrected her, "Idiosyncratic," because that was a much more serious word.

Tonks felt the tears in her eyes before she even knew what to do about them. She didn't know how Professor McGonagall would react to someone bursting into tears in her office, so she just spoke quickly. "I'll be here on Tuesdays, Professor."

McGonagall nodded. "You're dismissed."


	10. The Order of the Fortuitous

**for·tu·i·tous**

–adjective

1. happening or produced by chance; accidental: a fortuitous encounter.

2. lucky; fortunate: a series of fortuitous events that advanced her career.

_**Origin: **_  
1645–55; L fortuitus, fortuītus, equiv. to fortu- (u-stem base, otherwise unattested, akin to fors, gen. fortis chance, luck) + -itus, -ītus adj. suffix (for formation cf. gratuitous)

* * *

The word "fortuitous" is a very interesting one. It was originally a neutral term, meaning "by accident," but has since morphed itself a positive connotation, much like the word "lucky." There's an ongoing debate about which of these definitions is 'correct,' and the word is regularly used both ways; you must figure out the meaning of it from context, and I'm sure you can because clearly you're very clever. (You're reading this story.)

* * *

_**TONKS'S SUPER AWESOME PLAN:**_

_1. act cool. you have just as much right to be there as everyone else. (for merlin's sake, don't trip over anything!)_

* * *

Tonks's first meeting with the Order of the Phoenix was one of the strangest experiences of her life. It all felt very surreal. Kingsley wore an earring. Tonks wondered how she would ever be able to look at him at work again, knowing that in his spare time _he wore earrings_.

She tripped over something in the front hall and cursed up a storm. Fortuitously, a man caught her. Unfortunately, he smelled to high heavens and Moody called him Dung. More specifically, he said, "Get your hands off the girl, Dung."

At the top landing of the stairs, curtains blew apart, and a portrait of an ugly woman began shrieking. "MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD TRAITORS, RUINING MY HOUSE AND MY NAME!"

Kingsley glared at Tonks. "Good going; you've tripped over the umbrella stand!"

Or, at least, that was what Tonks thought he said. It _was_ very loud. Needless to say, her foot hurt a great deal, and she was feeling quite cross with her colleague, so she shouted back, "What the fuck's an umbrella stand?"

* * *

_2. don't get intimidated. really, this is point 1 with a different name. girl, you still regret not asking gideon crumb for his autograph and/or to marry you when you were sixteen and he was standing_ right there_. grow some testicular fortitude, stat!_

* * *

A tiny grey-haired wizard and a curvy witch with black hair shut the curtains, and by extension the portrait, up.

Tonks was ushered into the kitchen by Dumbledore, whose mere presence made Tonks so nervous she could barely breathe, and was forced into a seat at the dining table by a plump, red-haired witch who introduced herself as Molly Weasley.

When Tonks mentioned that she knew Bill and Charlie, Mrs. Weasley gave her an odd look and said, "Oh?" and Tonks was pretty sure if she blushed any pinker she would glow. Mrs. Weasley blushed herself and said, "_Ah_," and Tonks wanted to explain that things weren't quite like that, but she couldn't formulate the words.

Dung slid in across from her, and said, "So, you're the shapeshifter, eh? If you're ever interested in going into business—"

"She's not interested in any of your so-called business, you pathetic excuse of a wizard!"

"Now, now, Alastor," Dumbledore intercepted calmly.

* * *

_3. be as friendly as possible because these are people who feel the way you do, and like ol' shackey said, this is about life and death and trusting others and all that shite._

* * *

Dung's eyes grew wide. "I was just trying to have a friendly conversation. And considering that I just saved the girl's life –"

"Why did you catch her, by the way, was she about to fall on somethin' you had your eye on?" Moody was getting louder. Dumbledore stepped in front of him.

"_Alastor,_" he repeated. Moody and Dumbledore stared each other down for a long moment. Moody was the one who broke away. He shook his head.

An icy voice cut across the room. "Far be it from me to interrupt such an _interesting_ display, but I believe that there are more pertinent matters at hand."

Tonks was surprised to see her former Potions professor standing in the far corner of the kitchen, lurking in the shadows like a black widow, and she was even more surprised to see him staring at her, a sneer growing on his face all the while.

Dumbledore turned to him. "Severus, you're free to go."

Tonks tilted her head and shot him a cocky grin. "Wotcher, Professor."

Without a word, he left the kitchen, cloak billowing impressively behind him. Tonks felt a brief flash of envy. She could never get anything to _billow_.

* * *

_4. you've always wanted to make a difference. __here is your chance__!_

* * *

Dumbledore looked right at her. "Nymphadora, your contribution to this society will be invaluable. Both Kingsley and Alastor have vouched for you, and I myself deem you to be very trustworthy." Dumbledore's eyes were kind behind his glasses, but then his gaze grew stern. "This is not a time for hesitation. This is not a time for fear. If you cannot dedicate yourself to this organization full-time, I highly suggest you leave."

Tonks wondered if Dumbledore could see inside of her, if he could hear all of her doubts and all of her fears. She thought of the list she had sketched out earlier, sitting cross-legged on her bed, and she felt her heart pounding in her ears as Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to be sucking every single secret out of her.

* * *

_5. please don't let them realise they've made a mistake_

* * *

"I want to be here," she said at last, so quietly that she could barely hear herself. She didn't break away from the Headmaster's stare, and she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"Good. Ministry employees are invaluable to the cause."

It all felt very surreal, being in this room with Albus Dumbledore, her favorite Chocolate Frog Card before she even realized he would be her headmaster. That she would somehow find herself amongst his chosen ... It seemed so unlikely. It seemed so surreal. It was so very, very surreal.

Fortuitously, the Professor didn't seem to notice that Tonks was feeling rather like she were in a dream, and he continued speaking.

"First and foremost, introductions are in order. You already know Hagrid, Minerva and Severus from school. And you met Mundungus Fletcher in the front hall."

Dung gave a tip of his bowler hat. Tonks gaped. "_You're _Mundungus Fletcher? The bloke whose file at the Ministry is this big –?" She made an exaggerated motion with her hands. Dung winked.

"Stop it, luv; you flatter me."

"An odd sense of pride," Moody grumbled.

"It _is_ strangely impressive," Tonks admitted. Dumbledore nodded.

"That it is. But the most important thing to remember is that it is not one's past indiscretions that matter in a time of war: it is what they are willing to do in the moment."

Dung looked very proud at Dumbledore's declaration, and, if Tonks wasn't mistaken, his eyes were glistening. "You faith means a lot to me, ol' Dumbledore. That said, I reckon it's time for me to take my leave. It was nice to meet you, luv." He stood and glanced at Moody as if expecting him to say something. Tonks could tell that her former mentor wanted to, but he kept his mouth shut. Dung nodded, seemingly satisfied. "G'bye all."

"Goodbye, Mundungus," Dumbledore said. Tonks watched the small, smelly bloke leave, and out of the corner of her eye saw Moody clutching his hip flask so tightly that his fingers were turning red.

* * *

_6. don't put your foot in your mouth. it's an interesting parlour trick, but otherwise it just gets you in trouble._

* * *

Dumbledore continued with introductions. "You've met Molly, and you said you know Bill. The rest of the Weasley children are staying here, as is Molly's husband, Arthur."

"There are children staying here?" Tonks asked, directing the question to Mrs. Weasley, who was busy chopping some lettuce with her wand. She visibly tensed, but said nothing. Dumbledore answered instead.

"The Weasleys are integral part of the Order of the Phoenix, and I give my word that they are just as safe here as anywhere else - in fact, I would say that they are _safer_."

Tonks blushed. "I really wasn't trying to imply anything."

"Of course you weren't," Dumbledore said kindly.

* * *

_7. just try to stop being yourself at all._

* * *

Tonks attempted to ease the tension. "So, er, where are Bill and Arthur?" she asked in Mrs. Weasley's general direction. Once again, Dumbledore replied.

"They are both on guard duty at the moment, and I will ask that you sign up for duty as well. Remus will be downstairs in a moment to explain it all to you."

He pointed to where Kingsley stood next to the two who had shut the curtains earlier. "Here are Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones, two more invaluable members of the Order."

Diggle had taken off his hat and smiled awkwardly, blushing profusely. Jones put forth a hand; Tonks took it.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Tonks," Jones offered, beaming. "I feel like we've been discussing your introduction to the Order for quite some time."

"It's true," Dumbledore said in a tone of voice that Tonks couldn't quite decipher. "Now that things are moving, it is crucial that we are doubly careful of whom we recruit."

Tonks didn't know what he was talking about, but she didn't like hearing Dumbledore sound like that. It certainly didn't make her feel more at ease.

* * *

_8. just stop it._

* * *

"I would place my life in Tonks's hands," Kingsley's deep voice said, and Tonks was stunned by his admission. He chuckled. "Close your mouth, girl; it's true."

"Don't get me wrong, Kingsley," Tonks said. "It's just ... my hands are awfully tiny."

"Tiny hands can do big things," Moody grunted. "Look at Potter."

"Yes, Harry's achievements are not to be overlooked," Dumbledore said in that odd voice once again. He turned back to Tonks. "You'll forgive me, Nymphadora, if there's not a proper meeting for your introduction to the Order."

"Of course, Professor."

He gave another smile. "Then I best be off. There are matters to which I must attend. Dinner smells delicious, Molly. It is a shame I cannot join in. Do you have any questions?"

Tonks realized he directed the last bit at her, and she tore her gaze away from Mrs. Weasley taking something out of an oven. She frowned.

"Shouldn't I take an oath or something? Isn't there some kind of ceremony?"

"There is something resembling a ceremony, but it is not prudent for you to endure at this time. The best thing for you to do is get your name on the guard roster as soon as possible. Good night, all."

Dumbledore nodded at everyone in turn, and left. Tonks watched the door close behind him, and then asked, "Where the fuck am I?"

* * *

_9. look at point 1 again._

* * *

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat, and Tonks became flustered. "Sorry... Er, I suppose I just wanted to know. This place is rather ridiculous, isn't it?"

Kingsley grinned. "You don't know the half of it."

He and Moody sat down on the either side of Tonks, while Mrs. Weasley continued to set the table. Jones and Diggle both had to leave, and Tonks suspected they were only there in the first place to meet her.

"Are there other members?"

"Yes, but not many. Dumbledore had some recruitment missions this summer, but not many people were interested," Kingsley replied.

"I remember the first time around, the Order was made up of nothing but Dumbledore's favorite kids from school. Of course, that made it all the worse when they started dropping like flies. You can see he's learned his lesson, what with no one from Hogwarts being allowed in now." Moody took out his eye and dropped it into a glass of water.

Tonks was too curious to be disgusted. "The Order was around during the first war?"

Moody looked at her like she was stupid. She tried not to look at the hole in his head.

"'Course there was an Order the first time around. It was made up of many brave people. Potter's parents. The Longbottoms'. Made up good, noble people. Much like this one, I reckon."

He sloshed his eyeball water around. He noticed Tonks staring at him. "What?"

"I don't think it's only your eye that's mad." Tonks sighed. "So where's this Remus I'm supposed to meet with?"

"Probably upstairs," Kingsley said, reading a Prophet he had gotten from somewhere. "Tell me this isn't the worst thing you've ever heard: _Ministry approval levels at an all-time high, says the secretary to the Prime Minister _... _There are always radicalists. But wizards suffering from delusions of grandeur should never be taken seriously._"

Moody grunted disapprovingly and shoved his eye back in. Tonks frowned.

"Are they talking about Harry?"

"And Dumbledore, most likely. This is what I meant before, Tonks. Things are going to get worse." Kingsley looked very worried.

* * *

_10. now look at point two._

* * *

"As if Harry suffers from delusions of grandeur! I've never met a more down-to-earth, kind boy in my entire life!" Mrs. Weasley said, shaking her head. Tonks raised an eyebrow.

"You know Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her. "Yes, dear. He's Ron's – that's my youngest son – best friend. He's been over to my house several times. He quiet and shy, and he's lived a very sheltered life, and only people that don't know him could dare claim that he's as self-involved as _The Daily Prophet _and the Ministry suggest!" Mrs. Weasley sounded positively frazzled. Tonks had never really thought of Harry Potter as a real boy before, but suddenly she felt very sympathetic toward him.

"A sheltered life?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "He was raised by Muggles."

"Oh," Tonks said. She was tempted to ask why that was so sheltered. In fact, maybe being raised by Muggles wasn't very bad for Harry. He wouldn't have had to grow up surrounded by admirers, and he would get to enjoy television and computers and rock music. Merlin, Tonks had never been as depressed as she had been on her fifteenth birthday, when her father bought her a record player and it turned out it didn't work at their house because of all the magic.

"There's always someone watching over Potter while he's at the Muggles'," Moody said. "You should get signed up for that."

"That's the guard duty Dumbledore was talking about?" Tonks asked. "Guarding Harry?"

"And something else," Kingsley said, rather mysteriously.

"I thought once I joined this club, I'd get to know all the secrets."

"We'll let you in on the hand shake later." Kingsley winked.

"You two bleeding idiots shouldn't be joking about this."

"Sorry," Tonks said quickly. "But where is that goddamn bloke?"

Mrs. Weasley grimaced, but went on like she hadn't heard her. "I'm going upstairs to tell the children that dinner's ready."

"Go with her, Tonks," Kingsley said. "It may be awhile before Remus comes downstairs; he's been ill."

"Where is he?"

"I'm sure he's in his room, dear. He's staying here, as well," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, as if she'd already forgotten about Tonks's dirty mouth. "I'll show you."

Tonks followed Mrs. Weasley up the stairs and down the hallway. The curtains that covered the crazy portrait moved in and out, as if it were snoring. Tonks wanted to peek and see, but she didn't want to risk waking it up.

"Who is that?" she whispered.

Mrs. Weasley seemed not to hear her. "That's his room, dear. The last door. Give it a knock; I'm sure he'll appreciate not having to come downstairs. Once you're through, you're welcome to join us for dinner."

Mrs. Weasley approached a door on the other side of the hallway. "Ginny? Hermione?"

Tonks was tempted to stick around, to see some Weasley kids, but then she decided she was just being cowardly. She knocked on the door that was supposedly Remus's. No one answered straightaway, and Tonks wondered if she'd knocked loud enough. She was about to do it again, when a hoarse voice said, "Come in."

* * *

_11. point three sounds worth noting, too._

* * *

Tonks opened the door. She didn't know what to expect; the house had seemed so dark and creepy, what with all the snakes. But this bedroom was exactly that, with a bed and a desk.

A man sat at the desk, facing the door. He had hair streaked with grey and he wore a light brown robe frayed at the seams and patched at the elbows. The only light was a flickering lamp on his desk; he was apparently in the middle of writing something, and he'd had his quill dipped in ink. Not a foot away from the ink well sat an empty cauldron, still smoking.

He looked up at her. She grinned nervously. "Er ... Dumbledore said something about guard duty ..."

He smiled. "You're Nymphadora Tonks," he said, just as kindly as Mrs. Weasley had been a moment ago. Tonks nodded.

"Come in, come in," he said, gesturing toward his bed.


	11. The Spy Game

_She lay in the sun And soaked up the rays_  
_The witch was quite young, Or so the hags say_

_The wolves found her there, Asleep in the field_  
_Her skin was quite fair. She'd make a nice meal_

_But wait, said the alpha We cannot eat her_  
_Why not? asked the others. Because there's no meat here_

_She looks appealing, The alpha explained_  
_But 'tis an illusion It would be in vain_

_Her arm would not feed One small little cub_  
_Her thigh would not satisfy Any one of us_

_So let us find prey Worthy of the fight_  
_And leave this witch here_ _To wander the forest at night_

"Wolves and Witches" by Wulfric the Weird  
Translated from Old English by Bathilda Bagshot

* * *

The bed was as hard as a rock.

"Yes, Dumbledore asked me to go over all this with you since he had other matters to attend to. I've also become something of the designated organizer, but I don't really know how that happened."

Tonks watched as Remus sorted through the parchment on the desk. "Sorry I didn't come down earlier. I lost track of time."

"It's fine, really," Tonks said, feeling more awkward than she probably ever had in her entire life. "I, er, heard you were ill."

He chuckled quietly. "Something like that. Ah! Here we are."

He handed a piece of parchment to Tonks. He ran his wand across the page. Columns and rows appeared.

"These are the dates we're all signed up for. Moody's disgusted that it's all written down, but there needed to be order to the system. Plus Moody's always cantankerous, so in for a knut, in for a galleon, I say." Remus pointed with his wand as he explained. "Generally, there are two of us on guard duty at the Ministry at a given time, shifts of four hours each. It may soon turn into eight. Dumbledore would like for it to be covered twenty-four hours a day, but it's rather difficult, and only people that work at the Ministry have a somewhat decent cover story for being there."

"We're guarding the whole of the Ministry?" Tonks asked, surprised.

Remus shook his head. "No, just the Department of Mysteries."

"Why?"

Remus paused. And then, "Something to do with a prophecy. I gather that Voldemort's interested in it, and Dumbledore doesn't like that."

Tonks hadn't been expecting this shabby bloke to say the Dark Lord's name, and it caught her off-guard. If he noticed the way she blanched, he didn't say anything.

"Anyway, we also guard Harry, but that's a less strenuous experience. Arabella Figg is a Squib who lives down the road from him, and we usually check in with her, make sure all is well.

"Feel free to pick some times that are good for you. I must suggest that you keep in mind that the last thing you want to do is rouse suspicion, so don't overextend yourself. You don't want to make yourself too tired for a work, or so your parents notice."

Tonks flushed, feeling ridiculous. She really didn't have an excuse to live at home anymore, now that she was actually getting paid for her work. She really should look into getting her own flat.

Shaking that thought from her head, Tonks looked back at the parchment. "Where are Arthur and Bill Weasley right now?"

Remus had returned to writing at his desk, and he tilted his head to prove he heard her. "Arthur's at the Ministry; Bill's watching Harry."

"Oh," Tonks said. She looked at the times. She was most interested in guarding Harry. She wanted to see what he was like. She wanted to be friends with him. She hoped he wouldn't think that she was just another star-struck witch. She had never even thought twice about him until now, but she was suddenly very convinced that she and The Boy Who Lived would get on quite well.

Unfortunately, most of the times involving Harry were full. Tonks didn't even realize that Remus was staring at her until he said, "We mostly need help with that one." He pointed at the Ministry column.

Tonks sighed. "I want to see Harry."

He gave a crooked smile, and Tonks noticed just how worn-out he appeared. It looked like he hadn't slept in days. "You and everyone else in the Order."

"Mrs. Weasley said he was kind."

"He is. He's a good kid."

"You know him, too?"

"Yes."

"Does everyone?"

"He _is _rather famous ..."

"You know what I meant," Tonks said. She turned back to the sheet. She didn't know where to put herself. She scratched at her chin with the quill feather.

"You can guard with me your first time, if you'd like. I wouldn't be averse to having someone from the Ministry there." He pointed with his wand at the name Remus Lupin, written under 8:00pm-12:00am on July 23rd. Tonks thought about it for a moment, and then nodded.

He took the parchment back from her and wrote something on it.

"Does Arthur usually guard alone?"

"I think he prefers it. Bill sometimes does it with him, but he guards Harry a lot." Remus smiled at her. "I suggest you ask Bill to give you one of the days he guards Harry; I'm sure he won't mind."

Tonks nodded gratefully. "I might just. But what about you? You don't like to guard alone?"

He shook his head. "I like having someone there to poke me when I fall asleep."

"So what do we do, just stand in the middle of the hallway?" Despite working at the Ministry, Tonks actually knew very little about the Department of Mysteries, and she found herself growing increasingly intrigued by this new project.

Remus shook his head again. "No, we stand against the wall." He gave her a grin, and Tonks realized he was joking, but it was a bit hard to tell from his tone. "Under Moody's invisibility cloak. Fortuitously, there aren't any guards in the Department of Mysteries, so it's usually quiet and boring."

Tonks hated to think about what would happen if You-Know-Who really did break into the Department of Mysteries while she was standing guard... She fervently hoped that wouldn't happen.

Remus didn't look back at Tonks or say anything else to her, and for a few moments, she wondered if she should go downstairs for dinner. She didn't know proper secret society etiquette, especially with someone you'd just agreed to spend four hours huddled under a cloak with.

Tonks was about to damn it all and just leave when something poked its head in the door. A large, shaggy, black dog sauntered into the room, head cocked, staring at her with a very inquisitive expression.

Tonks had never seen a dog like that. It seemed both too big and too small. Its fur seemed too faded and too shiny. And, most peculiarly, it seemed to be scrutinizing her as well.

Remus frowned at the dog as if he were annoyed with it. "I thought you were going to stay in your room all night and sulk."

The dog didn't respond, and Tonks wondered if she were mad for expecting it to. Remus looked at her and then back at it.

"Of course you'd want to see the newest member."

The dog didn't respond to that, either, and just slowly made its way to Tonks. It pushed its wet nose against the hand she had resting on the edge of the bed and began sniffing.

From that angle, Tonks inspected the dog's profile. The eye she saw was a fascinating color. Grey.

"What's its name?"

"His name's Snuffles," Remus said. The dog growled in the back of its throat, and Tonks yanked her fingers away. "He's just mad at me," Remus assured her.

"Oh?" Tonks asked, as she began to scratch the dog behind his ears.

"Actually, he doesn't like that –" Remus began, but then stopped when he noticed the way the dog leaned into Tonks's touch. He smiled and shook his head. "Only when a girl does it ..."

Tonks didn't quite understand the statement. "So, er, this is _your_ dog?"

Remus turned away from her, and rested his head against his desk. She was afraid she had offended him, or that his illness included crippling, painful migraines brought on by questions about this dog. But then she saw his shoulders shaking, and she realized he was laughing - quite hard.

Once he caught his breath, he turned back around, and, wiping the tears from his eyes, said, "Do I own you, Snuffles?"

The dog growled again.

"I don't think he likes you very much," Tonks said, and the dog licked her hand as if agreeing with her.

"Not at the moment, no," Remus said easily. "We had a row."

"You have rows with him often?" Tonks asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.

Remus grinned. "Only when he's being particularly insufferable."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "I had a cat for ten years, and aside from some petty fights over who got the chair in the parlor, we never argued."

Remus's smile widened. "Ah, but see, Snuffles already knows that I've reserved all the comfortable sitting areas in the house."

The dog growled once more, a slow-growing growl accompanied by the most hostile glare Tonks had ever seen on an animal.

Remus smirked at him.

Tonks scratched at Snuffles' ears again, as if trying to dissolve the tension between the two. "So, Remus," she said, grasping for straws. "I feel like you and I haven't really been introduced properly."

"Probably because we haven't been. Sorry about that. I'm a mess at the moment." Remus looked back at the parchment cluttering his desk.

"Work for the Order?" Tonks asked.

Remus paused again, like he didn't want to have to tell her, and Tonks wondered if being in the Order would be like being an Auror, and if people would always be hesitant to tell her things at all. Remus surprised Tonks when he said, "Sort of."

Tonks knew better than to press the matter. "Well, all right then," she said, scratching Snuffles behind his other ear. "Do you prefer to go by Remus, or Lupin?"

Remus shrugged. "Either's fine by me."

Tonks expected him to ask if she preferred to go by Nymphadora or Tonks. It was a trick she had learned during Auror training, a useful way of bringing up her name without bringing it up at all.

He didn't.

"So, Nymphadora," he said, picking up his quill and writing some more, "do you think you'll be around headquarters for a while?"

Tonks cringed at the name, but he couldn't see her behind his back. "I suppose so. Why?"

"I was going to suggest that if you wanted to learn more about Harry, introduce yourself to the kids – Hermione and Ron, in particular."

"Ron's his best friend, according to Mrs. Weasley. Hermione is ...?"

"His other best friend. She's not a Weasley, she's Ron and Harry's other friend. Brilliant witch for her age."

The bark Snuffles made sounded like a laugh, and Remus frowned at him.

"I understand you're frustrated about Harry's situation, but don't go taking it out on Hermione."

The confusion must have been evident on Tonks's face, because Remus elaborated. "Snuffles wishes Harry was here. He doesn't think it's fair that Hermione gets to be here and Harry doesn't."

"...Oh," Tonks said, because she couldn't really say anything else.

"I'll probably need to talk to him. You're staying for dinner?" Remus asked. Tonks gave something resembling a nod. "Why don't you head downstairs? Molly's a fantastic cook."

As soon as Tonks was out of the room, the door slammed behind her. There was definitely something strange going on. She wondered if secrecy was something she should just expect from a secret society, but, on the other hand, Remus and that dog were giving her a weird feeling in her gut – the kind of gut feeling that, as an Auror, she knew it was her duty to follow up on.

Vowing to investigate further (and maybe question Kingsley) later, she decided to head to the kitchen. She was at the top of the stairs when there was a loud _pop._

She had reached for the wand in her jeans pocket before even realizing that the people who had Apparated in her midst were two teenage boys standing on either side of her.

"Wow, George," the one of her left said, looking down at her. "Something's different about you."

"That's not me, Fred," the one on her right said. "Or, at least, I don't think it's me."

"You're not George, are you?" the one on her left asked.

Tonks looked at both of them, with their freckly boyish complexions, and she was reminded of Charlie, and she smiled involuntarily, releasing her wand. "I don't think so."

"Do you want to kill yourself?" the one on the left asked. "That's what I'd want to do if I were George."

"Hey!" the one on her right interjected. He smiled at her. "Are you Tonks?"

"You're not as stupid as you look, George! She must be Tonks!" the one on her left said, and he smiled at her, too. "You're the Metamorphmagus, right?"

"That's right," Tonks said. "But how do you two know about that?"

"We've been eavesdropping at the Order meetings," the one on her left, Fred, said. "If you could do us a favor and _enunciate_, we would really appreciate it."

"It's only fair," the one on her right, George, said. "We _are _of age."

"Yes, we're adult enough to spy. Are you staying for dinner?" Fred asked.

Tonks shrugged. "If there's any food left, I wouldn't mind."

"You'd better hurry," George said. "Our brother Ron's in there."

"Bloke eats more food than a Romanian Ridgeback," Fred added. He patted the top of her head. "Is pink your natural color?"

"Do you make a habit of invading people's personal space?" Tonks wished she could stop grinning, so she could sound truly threatening.

"No, not at all," Fred said, hardly phased. "You should feel quite flattered."

"We're heading downstairs; I'll try to save a piece of bread for you," George said.

"If you knew our brother, you'd know how much of a sacrifice that truly is." Fred winked, and then, with another _pop, _they were gone.

Tonks had to admit, being accosted by what appeared to be Apparation-happy Weasley twins was just icing on top of the surreal cake. She was about to take the stairs like a normal person, when something the twins had said hit her.

She walked back to Remus's doorway, and then, almost against her better judgment, pressed her ear against the door.

She heard nothing at first, so she cast a slight Amplification Charm.

Remus's voice was muffled, but understandable. "I feel like we keep having this conversation."

And then there was another male voice that Tonks didn't recognize. "Of course we do. It's because nothing's changed. Nothing's going to change."

"Far be it from me to criticize you for moping around as a dog –" Remus said, and the pieces fell into place.

_An Animagus_. Of course! Tonks _knew_ something had been off about the dog, but she'd tried to give it the benefit of the doubt. Babou, for example, rarely acted like a completely normal cat.

And of course they'd want to keep it a secret from her – turning in unregistered Animagi fell under her jurisdiction, and he most likely _was._ Tonks wondered if Moody and Kingsley knew about the not-dog, if anyone in the Order knew. But didn't Remus say he knew Harry as well ...?

She thought of the way she'd scratched the stranger's ears and frowned. She had thought Fred Weasley touching her head had been forward!

The Animagus continued. "Why not, Moony? You criticize me for everything else, anyway."

"I'm not criticizing you, I'm pointing out the flaws in your logic. Namely, your insistence that you're not contributing anything. Old friend, you're letting us use your house."

Tonks certainly found _that _interesting. She looked at the decorative snake curved around the top of the banister; she looked at the sleeping portrait. Kingsley _definitely _should have told her whose house this was.

The other bloke exhaled. "Yeah, Moony," and Tonks had to wonder why Remus was given that particular nickname. "That was a lot of effort on my part."

"Clearly you don't know that definition of the word 'contribution.' It has nothing to do with effort whatsoever."

"It's easy for you to say I'm contributing. You get to be _out there_. You get to _do things. _I'm stuck here. Dumbledore's scrambling for people to guard at the Ministry, and I'm right here –"

"And what, Padfoot? You want to guard? It's not like it's particularly glamorous, and if you're caught, you're dead. You're worth much more to the Order here, and you need to understand that. I'm sympathetic, I really am, but I wish you'd stop moping just because things don't go your way."

"You keep using that word, you must love it."

"It describes you perfectly. You're acting seventeen. No, fifteen. When you were fifteen, you were awful and just like this."

"I was awful because — _Fuck_, I hate being here!"

"So I've heard."

"I can't believe Dumbledore's so hard up for help he's recruited Andromeda's daughter."

Tonks pressed her ear harder against the door.

"I can't believe she's grown," the Animagus went on. "I remember ... I remember hearing about her birth. I'd fallen out of touch with Andromeda at that point, not that I'd ever talked to her that much, anyway ... I remember my mother mentioning it at dinner in that _voice _... I remember it all so clearly, and now that baby's grown up into an Auror, of all things!"

There was a silence, and Tonks found that she was holding her breath.

"She's a looker, huh?"

Tonks breathed out.

Remus laughed. "Barking up the wrong tree, aren't you, Snuffles? Or maybe just a rather personal one."

"Fuck's sake, Remus," Padfoot said. "Is everything with you some pun or double entendre or double meaning? No wonder you never found a bird."

"That's funny coming from you, considering that joke about your name went on for years."

"I _never _joke about my name. I'm serious."

"That is exactly what I meant by 'particularly insufferable' earlier."

"No, it isn't. That's me being as insufferable as usual. You were talking about the fact that I locked myself in with Buckbeak yesterday, and not even your piss-poor tea could draw me out."

Remus's voice took on an amused lilt. "I won't pretend that you didn't hurt my pride and that you didn't break my heart, but I will say that I'm glad you're out now. And getting back to your bark and your trees ... When are you going to talk to Tonks?"

"I don't know. Can't really walk downstairs and wave at her, can I?"

"It wouldn't be one of your best decisions, but then again, you're the one who went skinny-dipping with Charlotte Boroughs."

"That was a good idea, what ruined it was_ you_ bastards, spying and stealing our clothes ..."

"Yes, I remember when Pete —"

Remus stopped rather abruptly, and there was more silence between the two men. But this silence was tense, and for the first time since she'd started eavesdropping, Tonks felt like she was intruding on a personal conversation.

Remus cleared his throat. "You should probably talk to her soon, considering she's now a member. How about if I ask her to come up after dinner?"

"Yes, probably should. If she's even still here. May have gone home."

"Don't think yourself that lucky."

"I don't think myself very lucky at all, actually."

"Are we having this conversation again?"

"You just seem so _very _fond of it, Remus."

"I realize that asking you to look at this situation logically is a lost cause, but I'm still tempted to do it."

"You and your bloody logic! Remus, I'm a fucking _prisoner_! There's no getting around that!"

Remus spoke slowly and calmly. "We all have to do things that we don't want to do, old friend. Dumbledore needs you to stay here. _Harry_ needs you here. It's just for now."

"'_Just for now_?' ...I've been telling myself that for the better part of twenty years."

"Then things have to work out for you at some point, don't they?"

"When did you become a bleeding optimist?"

"Aren't they all?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, sometimes I want to just give you a good slap about the face."

Remus laughed. "Come down to dinner. You know Molly loves any excuse to complain that we don't eat well."

"I'm not really hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were."

"You're going to start mothering me now?"

"Clearly you didn't get enough of it in life. Did you hear your mother go off earlier?"

"Did she? I can tune her out, you know. Useful skill."

_Mother? _Tonks thought.

"It's a pity that book tried to eat my hand because I'm almost certain it could've told me how to undo a Permanent Sticking Charm," Remus said.

"Admit it, Moony. The dangerous books are your favorite. Don't act like James and I didn't know why you snuck off with his cloak. You and your Restricted Section fetish."

"First of all, the Restricted Section was always James's forte, and secondly, the Hogwarts collection pales in comparison to the library of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."

It was not Tonks's best decision, to fling open the door then and there and demand to know what the hell was going on. And Tonks had never fainted before in her life, but when she saw Sirius Black standing there, she suddenly felt light-headed, and she couldn't quite stand up, and every time she blinked there was all these dots. And then she fortuitously fell into Remus's arms.

She kept casting spells and leaving burnt spots on walls and Sirius kept saying, "You don't understand!"

And then Remus said right into her ear, "You're being hysterical."

But Tonks kept casting hexes. She got Sirius with a good one that made his nose turn into an elephant trunk.

Then someone said "_Stupefy_!" and the world went black.


	12. Blood Is Thicker

"Mum, how come you never talk about your family?"

Such a simple question should not have made her mother tense up the way she did, but twelve-year-old Tonks saw the way her mother's brow furrowed, and Tonks had always been good with facial expressions. Her mother was not pleased with this.

"Why are you bringing this up, sweetheart?" she said quietly.

It was Christmas break. They were making treacle tart. Half of Tonks wanted to bask in the holiday and the time she was spending with her mum, while her other half...

"It's just, Cynthia's going with her mother to her grandparents' and I thought it was strange that you don't talk about _my _grandparents. I mean, dad has Granny, and she's a Muggle, so she won't live very long and all that—"

"My parents are dead."

Tonks heard the finality in her mother's voice and sighed. "I figured as much, it's just..."

"What?" Her mother slammed the crust she had been kneading down onto the table. "What, Nymphadora?"

"What about that woman? That one time, in Diagon Alley? Who was she?"

Tonks had been wondering about that woman since last summer. She had waved at her mother, had stopped and said hello to her in the middle of the busy street. She had talked to her mother like she knew her. She had said, "Let's keep in touch, Andy."

Tonks had never before heard anyone call her mother 'Andy.'

"That was my sister," her mother said, refusing to meet her eyes.

Tonks wasn't expecting that at all. "You... you have a _sister_?"

Tonks had dreamed of having a brother or a sister. To play with, whenever she wanted. She had never really felt alone, but sometimes she felt like _something _was missing. She imagined that siblings were always close, so to hear that her mother had a sister she had never even mentioned was more than surprising.

"I have two sisters," her mother said softly.

"You have two sisters? I have two aunts?"

"Why do you want aunts, Nymphadora?" her mother asked. "You have your father and me, and you have your gran. You've got a family, stop looking for more."

"But what about _your_ family?" Tonks asked.

Her mother smiled. "I have you and your dad, don't I?"

* * *

Tonks was shaking when Molly Weasley handed her a mug of tea. She still felt a bit out of it, and she surmised that she was in some kind of study.

"There you go, dear," Molly said, sitting next to her on the sofa and patting her leg. Tonks was still feeling a bit wonky, so she wished that everyone didn't insist on continuing the conversation while she sat there. "_You_," Mrs. Weasley said, pointing a finger at Black.

"Me?" he asked.

"Yes. You insisted on telling the poor girl to her face, and look how that turned out!"

"In Sirius's defense, it's not all that likely that Tonks here would've believed it unless she saw it with her own eyes," Remus said.

"It _is_ one of those situations," Kingsley affirmed.

Moody was giving Tonks a look like she'd just failed one of his obstacle courses. "I don't bloody care what kind of situation it was! Tonks, let's get one thing clear: Always act on your gut, but don't go breaking doors open if you think a lunatic's on the other side. It's the third easiest way to get killed."

"What are the first two?" Remus asked.

Tonks turned to Kingsley. "How could you ... how could you ...?"

She very well could've been asking him how he had managed to continue looking for mass murderer Sirius Black knowing that he was innocent, but that wasn't what Tonks was getting at. Out of all the emotions she could possibly feel at the moment, Tonks was in fact feeling a bit left out.

Kingsley gave her a pathetic look. "I honestly haven't known that long. But you could understand why we would keep something like this under wraps?"

"Of course I understand." Tonks sighed. "I suppose I should be flattered you've let me in your confidence at all. I am so bloody sorry that you had to go through all that," she added to Black.

The most distubing thing was that he didn't look like the Wanted poster she had long ago memorized. That Sirius Black looked quite mad and dangerous. This Sirius Black looked relatively clean and... _tired._

"It's all right," he said in a world-weary way. "No use crying over spilt potion and all that. Sorry I gave you such a fright. Just don't like when people hear about me secondhand. It tends to make matters harder to believe."

"For the record," Tonks said, lifting her cup to her lips, "hearing it firsthand is a bit shocking, as well."

* * *

When Tonks was fourteen, she had joined Professor Flitwick's photography club. She was sprawled across the sofa in the parlor, trying to figure out the best angle to take a picture of Babou, who was asleep on her stomach. She called to her mother in the kitchen.

"Mum, do you have any photos of when you were young?" And then, just because she was feeling particularly obnoxious, "Like, of your sisters?"

"I burnt them all," her mother said easily. "Just like I'll burn dinner if you keep bothering me."

* * *

Tonks didn't want to have to look up her family tree in the Hogwarts library, but it really was her only choice.

She didn't like it because only pureblooded Slytherins cared about looking up the family trees, but, after staring at her tree for a while, she decided that maybe, just maybe, she had more in common with the Slytherins than she had previously admitted.

* * *

"What are those spells Nymphadora does before bed?" Melanie Ruffle asked. "They're quite odd, aren't they?"

"They're wards, I think," said Samantha Blunt.

The girls couldn't see Tonks from she stood outside the dorm, but she could everything they said.

"Her mum taught them to her." Cynthia spoke in a small voice.

"Her mother must be absolutely mad, then," Melanie concluded. "Everyone knows there aren't bad wizards anymore."


	13. Different Kinds of Fruit

"Wotcher, Sirius!" Tonks greeted, peeling off her soaked Auror cloak as she went.

Tonks had had the brilliant idea to walk to Grimmauld Place from the newssagents in the sweltering heat, and by the time she had gotten there, she was a certifiable sweat machine. Fortunately for her, no one else was stupid enough to hang about in the drought, and so they didn't notice the girl in the red Auror cloak with long, purple hair walking to nowhere.

It was just Sirius when she came in, and he didn't seem all there, to be honest. He was staring into space, sitting in front of a cold cup of tea. Tonks motioned to it.

"You want a new one, mate?"

Sirius took a long moment to reply. "No. Thank you."

Tonks frowned.

"It was a pretty close game," she said, as she went about laying her cloak across the back of the chair and getting herself tea. By the time she was finished and seated across from him, Sirius still hadn't spoken up. "You heard about it on the Wireless, yeah? The Harpies beat the Cannons, but only because Derwent caught the Snitch. She's a decent flyer." Sirius still didn't say anything, or even look at her. "Do you reckon Ron had a heart attack, or what?"

He finally turned to her. "I heard Ginny cheering from my room. They probably had a wager."

Tonks grinned. "So you _did _hear about the game."

"Of course I listened to it." Sirius's eyes grew unfocused again. "What else am I to do in this house?"

Tonks's good mood vanished. _Of course_ she would bring up the worst bloody thing in the world. If she had actually done something right for once, she might've thought the world were coming to an end.

She opened her mouth to say something, to apologize, but nothing came out. She was interrupted by Remus Lupin and Emmeline Vance entering the kitchen themselves, speaking as they did.

"I'm sorry, Remus, but I'm going to have to reschedule," Vance was saying. "Parkinson has asked me to take on another shift, and if I try to back out, it would look suspicious. You understand."

"Of course, Emmeline. Good afternoon, Sirius, Nymphadora."

Sirius didn't respond to the greeting, but Tonks sent him a nod. Remus gave her a sympathetic look, like he knew what she had to deal with.

As if he knew that they were talking about him with their eyes, Sirius excused himself and floated out of the room.

"Poor Sirius," Vance said once he was gone. "I know he wishes to help."

"He _is _helping," Remus insisted before sighing and rubbing at his temples. "But you're right. Sitting here is driving him mad."

"And you're sure the Dementors did no permanent damage?" Vance asked.

Tonks's mind was flooded with thoughts of her one and only trip to Azkaban. That feeling of utter _inadequacy _washed through her again, and she almost started crying. It didn't help that the thought of Sirius locked up for twelve years was a rather depressing one.

"How can I be sure of that?" Remus said. "All I know is that Sirius has always been temperamental. I'm sorry, Nymphadora, that you have to be subjected to the brunt edge of Sirius's moods. I promise you, though, that it's generally cyclical. He'll be better once Harry's here."

Tonks shrugged, trying to play like it didn't upset her, even though it did.

Remus continued. "Why are you here, by the way? Did you need to change your schedule?"

Tonks blushed at that. The truth was that she was spending more and more time at Grimmauld Place because it was _fun. _She got on with all of the kids, especially Ginny, and she enjoyed talking to Bill and Remus and Vance and Jones. Arthur Weasley adored her, and he talked to her three hours straight one night about Muggle clothes. Molly Weasley was sweet to her as well, though Tonks noticed that every time she went to grab something from the kitchen, Molly cut her off, as if she were afraid that Tonks was going to make a big mess. The most annoying part was that she was probably right.

Grimmauld Place was exciting and friendly, and Tonks knew how crazy that sounded; not only was the house terribly spooky, but the whole, you know, _Dark Lord Rising Thing_ meant that Tonks should probably be taking things a bit more seriously. But she hadn't had a social life since Hogwarts; no one could really blame her for getting so attached to the time she spent here.

Before she could try to think of a reply that wasn't, "Well, I wanted to hang out," Remus cut her off.

"Would you be willing to take over Vance's shift? It's next week, 3 am to 7."

"Yeah, sure," Tonks said. She had to be at work at 8. So much for sleep.

"I can guard with you again."

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds good."

Tonks didn't like to admit it, but standing guard was scary and nerve-wracking. She was glad Remus sensed that she wouldn't want to do it alone.

"I'm sorry to leave you so short-handed," Vance said. "I really had no choice."

"It's fine, Emmeline. Don't worry about it."

"I really do worry about Sirius." Vance pulled her shawl closer to herself. "Maybe I could ... Well, maybe I could take him out for a walk."

Remus didn't look thrilled at that.

"I know it's dangerous – "

"Dumbledore specifically said that Sirius isn't to leave, and I don't think it's wise to go against his wishes. I hate seeing Sirius miserable, too, but Albus is right: it's far too dangerous for Sirius to be in the outside world."

Vance sighed, but nodded resolutely. She gave Tonks a smile. "I remember when Sirius was younger, during the first Order. Remus is right; he was always fruity and eccentric, though I don't recall him ever being so depressed. When they pulled me in for a interview after all that went down, I didn't know what to say. I found it impossible to reconcile the images of Sirius as I knew him and Sirius as a mass murderer."

"I think we were all having that problem," Remus said quietly.

"Interview?" Tonks asked.

"For the Ministry," Vance clarified.

Tonks frowned. "I wasn't aware there'd ever been a formal investigation."

"Oh, no, I don't believe there was. It was all formality, character study. I imagine once they saw that the pieces didn't fit they just threw Sirius in jail. It was a bad time for the Ministry." Her face darkened.

"It was a bad time for a lot of people."

For some reason, Tonks saw fit to pat Remus awkwardly on the hand. He gave her a watery smile.

"It's a good thing I wasn't an official witness or anything," Vance went on. "If I'd been subjected to Veritaserum, I would've told the whole lot about the Order."

"Moody was there," Remus said. "He had you covered."

"That's true."

Tonks sat in silence, letting the information soak in. She'd always thought of the Sirius Black case as cut and dry – He was witnessed killing people, what else was there to it? But now, of course, she knew the truth. She remembered when she had overheard Kingsley talking about how badly the investigation was botched up. He had been whispering to Dawlish, last year, while everyone else was excited about the Triwizard Tournament.

By the time her head was back in the conversation, Vance had moved on to something else.

"I like that Granger girl. She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"I've always thought so. Have you met her, Nymphadora?"

Tonks nodded. Hermione had seemed nice enough, although Tonks rather felt like she were being studied under the girl's thoughtful gaze. Finally, Hermione had asked, "Does it tingle when you morph, or is it more of an itch? I've read conflicting accounts."

Tonks was used to people being in awe of her, but she had never really felt like she was in zoo before. She had never really felt like she was some kind of animal.

Without thinking, her eyes scanned Remus's face, the thin, white scar running down his cheek. She turned away.

"She seems much older than she is."

"That's true," Remus said.

Hermione wasn't around as much, Tonks reflected. She didn't seem to want to get in the Order's way; she, in fact, spent most of her days in the Black library, going over all the books Sirius deemed safe for her to touch.

Vance must've been thinking the same thing because she chuckled. "You should've seen the girl's face when I told her about the Ravenclaw library."

After a few more minutes of conversation, Vance announced that she had to leave. Remus asked Tonks if she were going to stay for dinner, but Tonks didn't really feel like it anymore. She was back to chastising herself for being so dumb as to want to hang about Headquarters.

He walked her to the door, holding her cloak. "You came from work?" he asked.

Tonks _hadn't _come from work; she had just started taking her cloak with her when she left her house so maybe her parents would believe she was doing some overtime or something. It sounded stupid in her head, although at the time it seemed like a brilliant plan.

She took it from him. "You know, you really should stay for dinner more," he said. "Molly enjoys having mouths to feed, and the kids like the company."

Tonks sighed as she clipped the cloak into place. "You don't think it makes me pathetic, hanging around here all the time?"

"Nonsense," Remus said. "Besides, despite his mood, I _know _that Sirius wants you around. It's complicated for him – wanting family without wanting to remember that he has one. He likes you. He wouldn't talk to you at all if he didn't."

Tonks nodded. "All right, then. Maybe I'll be by tomorrow."

"I have Harry duty," Remus said, and Tonks didn't know why, but she found that disappointing. "I'll be sure to tell Sirius to be nice to you."

"Does he listen to what you say?"

"Almost never," Remus replied cheerfully. "But that's never stopped me from bossing him around before."


	14. Birds, Blood, Blank Pages

The red birds were reserved for the Heads of departments only. They were the easiest to spot, out of all the flying pieces of parchment in the Ministry, and it was not atypical for the witches and wizards doing their jobs to tense whenever one flew past.

You might even jokingly say to your colleague, "Oh, you'll get a red one if you keep that up" if they do something wrong, but it's really not a laughing matter because the red birds very rarely bring good news.

Tonks had learned early on in her career to ignore the threat of the red birds. Thinking of them just made her anxious, and Tonks wasn't the kind of person who could gracefully pull off nervousness. And all jokes aside, Tonks was actually pretty decent at her job.

So, at first, she didn't notice the piece of parchment that had landed on her desk. Tonks was in her cubicle, doing something extremely, extremely stupid. She had managed to talk herself into doing it by pointing out that she knew it was wreckless, as if that somehow made it better.

She was looking over Sirius Black's file. The file she had taken right from Kingsley's desk. She hadn't asked him for it – she knew he would say no, and for good reason. For one, she shouldn't even be on speaking terms with Kingsley, and two, it would draw too many questions if people realized Tonks had the file. Sirius was her cousin, so it wouldn't be too big of a leap for an idiot to assume she was sympathetic to him. And the last thing she wanted people to think was that she was on the side of a mass murderering agent of You-Know-Who.

So Tonks had stolen the file. It hadn't been easy, however. After searching around his cubicle, Tonks concluded that the file was hidden in the bottom drawer of Kingsley's desk, the one that was locked. She got down on her knees and began to fiddle with it, but the fact of the matter was that Tonks was never very good at breaking into things. It took a flick of your wrist that Tonks had never mastered. Any sort of spellcasting that required subtlety was out of her range.

Another problem was that she was in a cubicle. She wasn't hidden. If anyone stuck their head in, she would be caught. When Tonks realized that this wouldn't be as quick and stealthy a job as she had assumed, she had done an even stupider thing.

She morphed into Kingsley.

Right when Dawlish came to speak to him.

"Kingsley, mate," he said. Tonks froze.

Tonks hadn't mastered nonverbal magic, and she had trouble with the Voice-Copying Charm even when she did voice it, so that was not an option.

She just shook her head.

"Can you believe that? About that Muggle girl?"

Tonks kept her back firmly to him, and sat down in Kingsley's desk chair. It was weird, being so muscular. Tonks had never felt any more comfortable than she did in her usual body. She wondered if that meant it was her real size.

"It really got to you, didn't it?" Dawlish was still talking. "I wondered who was behind it."

Tonks shrugged. She hoped he would just go. She was fortunately wearing her Auror cloak; otherwise, he would've surely noticed something was wrong. The outfit she had on today included her favorite leather mini skirt and dancing Bertie Botts tights.

"I'll leave you be, then, mate. Try not to think about the picture. Look over Black's file again. Where was he last seen? Aruba?"

Tonks nodded again, but refused to meet his eyes. When he finally left, she let out a sigh of relief. Crawling back onto her knees, she decided to try one more time before giving up.

"_Alohomora_!" She flicked her wrist.

The lock clicked.

She grabbed the file folder and ran back to her desk, where she was now reading about her cousin. Vance's comment had spun Tonks's mind into all sorts of directions. She had tried to talk to Sirius at Grimmauld Place, but he hadn't seemed all that interested. On the few occasions he left his room, he just walked around like a zombie, never looking happy about anything. There were so many times she wished she had a Sirius handbook to read up on, to learn how to best deal with her cousin. The closest thing she had was Remus, and there were a lot of things she didn't feel comfortable asking him about. Sirius's official file seemed her best bet to get some insight into him.

But as she read it, all she got was a portrait of lonely boy. Granted, there were pictures where he was grinning and looking like a model, and there was a list a meter long of his girlfriends, but there were also diary entries in which he complained of his home life. He wrote about his friendship with James Potter almost incessantly, as if it were the one good thing he had. (Tonks's favorite entry read: _Today James and I figured out how to make Minnie blush. We've detention until we're dead_.)

Tonks knew that, according to the Ministry, Sirius wasn't implicated in James's death, but she wondered how the members of the Order had wrapped their heads around that. How could they believe that Sirius would betray his best friend?

When she got to the end of his profile, there was a picture of Sirius with James, Remus and Peter Pettigrew, and every few moments, Sirius turned his smile toward James.

Written underneath the picture were the words: _Most likely joined Death Eaters to appease family. Went mad after Voldemort fell. Maybe went mad about Potter's death? ? ?_

It was Kingsley's handwriting.

The next section of the file included the interviews conducted right after the attack with those who knew him. It was noted that Remus Lupin couldn't be found, and that he was "a person of interest" in the case. Tonks wondered if it could really be called a case at all, given that Sirius wasn't even granted a proper trial, and that _his wand seemed to be missing._

"It's things like this that make the Ministry look completely inept," Tonks muttered to herself.

When she turned the page, a picture floated into her lap. Staring up at her were her mother and Sirius. Sirius was grinning his handsome grin, while her mother just smiled her small smirk, but Tonks could tell from her eyes that she was happy. Tonks had known that Sirius and her mother had gotten on, but there was a difference between _knowing _something and seeing it with her own eyes. Sirius and her mother both looked young; Sirius was wearing the plain robes the first years always did. He was a very old 11 or 12.

The page was titled "ANDROMEDA TONKS INTERVIEW," but there were no words on it. The next page said, "EMMELINE VANCE INTERVIEW" and went straight into it. The transcript of her mother's interview was nowhere to be found.

"What in Merlin's name ..."

Tonks looked through the remaining papers, but found nothing.

When she leaned back in her chair and thoughtfully exhaled, she noticed the red bird perched on the edge of her desk.

* * *

Tonks had never set foot in Amelia Bones's office, and she didn't know what to expect after rapping on the door and hearing a "Yes?"

She slowly stuck her head in. "You asked to see me, Mrs. Bones?"

Amelia Bones was sitting behind her desk while Scrimegeour stood in the corner like some kind of omen.

"It's Miss, Tonks, and I sent you that bird ages ago. What took you?"

"Sorry, sorry," Tonks said, closing the door behind her. "I was caught up in some paperwork."

"Paperwork?" Bones didn't seem impressed.

"With the Memory Charm case. Dawlish and Savage's case, ma'am," Tonks said quickly. It was the case she was supposed to be working on.

"Oh, right," Bones said flatly. "Anyway, we'd like to talk to you about the Mary Merriwether case."

"Mary Merriwether?" Tonks hadn't heard of it.

"It's the Muggle murder everyone's been gossiping about, Tonks," Scrimgeour supplied gruffly.

Tonks nodded. "Oh, right, right." It must've been the case Dawlish brought up. "With the little girl."

"Yes, Mary Merriwether was ten-years-old and found dead this morning," Bones said, and Scrimgeour held out a folder to her. Tonks tried to take it as gracefully as she could, given that, with no other options, Tonks had stuffed the Sirius Black file down the back of her cloak. She hadn't had time to return it to Kingsley's desk, and leaving it in her own was just asking for trouble. She couldn't even shrink it or Transfigure it into something else because she knew that Ministry files did not deal well with magical tampering.

"Ah, yes," Tonks said as she grabbed the folder. When she opened it up, she was met with the gruesome sight of a savagely slashed up little girl. Her stomach was cut open so brutally that her insides were visible, and the white walls behind her were smeared with her blood. Tonks couldn't look away, even though she felt like she might vomit. The fact that it was a magical picture wasn't even apparent save for a fly that kept landing on the girl and then flying away.

"The Muggle Aurors have agreed to let us co-investigate this matter with them, even though there was clearly magic involved - her body has not decayed and her blood was suspiciously thin. I suspect a potion of some kind," Bones said. "As it stands, her parents are very powerful and wealthy, and so the Muggles are keen on solving this, but they'll need our help. Because this mission will require knowledge of Muggle culture, I have asked that you be assigned to it."

Tonks could barely believe what she was hearing. In between finding out that her mother's interview was missing from the Sirius Black folder and seeing a graphic image of a dead little girl, it had been a very strange morning.

"What?"

"You're on the case, Tonks," Scrimgeour said. "This will be your first field assignment, so I will be monitoring you closely."

"I'm on the case?" Tonks knew that she was sounding stupid, but she just couldn't help it. "Who am I assigned with?"

"Proudfoot," Scrimgeour said.

"The body will be back from St. Mungo's tomorrow, and both the healers and Muggle doctors will have their reports. You will meet with them then," Bones said. "For now I suggest you wrap any of the loose ends you have on other cases because I imagine this will take up most of your time."

Tonks nodded again. "Thank you."

She didn't wait to be dismissed, but just walked from the room quickly and stiffly.

* * *

When Tonks got to Headquarters, she didn't even really know why she was there, but Bill Weasley was in the kitchen with Fleur Delacour, and Tonks suspected that she interrupted them mid-snog when they both seemed to jump into menial tasks when she walked in. Fleur went about making tea, and Bill was, funnily enough, wiping off Molly's meticulously clean dishes.

"So, erm," Tonks said awkwardly from her spot in the doorway, "I suppose there's nothing to report?"

"Nothing zat I am aware of, no," Fleur said, and she wiped at her flushed lips with the back of her hand. "But it is nice to see you, Tonks." Fleur gave her a smile and Tonks noted that she liked the way Fleur said her name. "Tunks," almost. She then thought that she should just go, thought that she didn't want to be a third wheel or an unwelcome guest, but then Bill spoke up.

"How's Harry?"

"Harry?" Tonks repeated. Her mind flashed back to the night before, of Harry sitting in his window, and how she could see him under the full moon, so close, and so, so lonely; she could practically feel the loneliness flowing off of him. And she couldn't even say hello. "He's fine."

"It's maddening, isn't it? Not even being able to talk to him?" Bill said, and she wondered if he were reading her mind.

"'e seems like such a sad little boy," Fleur said, and then no one spoke for a few moments until the tea kettle whistled. "It looks like it is ready to drink," Fleur stated. "Would you like a glass?"

Tonks shook her head, and she felt the file shift in her cloak, and she was struck with an idea. "Bill, could I ask you for a huge favor?"

Bill dropped the pretense of cleaning dishes and raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"It's nothing that will get you in particular trouble," Tonks said quickly. "But I just need help hiding something for a few days. I can't afford to hide it at my house –" _Tonks didn't quite know exactly what was going on with her mother yet - _"but I also can't leave it lying around here."

"I might know a place," Bill said slowly, "but it really depends what it is."

And by that point, both Bill and Fleur were obviously intrigued, and like vomit, Tonks couldn't stop the words from spilling out. She took off her cloak, and she showed them the file and Bill and Fleur made the appropriate interested sounds.

"It's technically okay for me to have it," Tonks assured them. "I'm an auror, and its well-within my jurisidiction. I just can't afford..."

"You can't afford people to ask questions," Bill finished, and Tonks nodded.

"And I plan on taking it back really soon; I just need to analyze it a bit more."

"Won't Kingsley miss it?" Fleur asked.

Tonks shook her head. "He hardly ever looks at it; he's had it long-memorized. Still, if I hear him mention it around the office, I'll tell him before he files a missing file report." Tonks didn't voice her opinion that a missing file report practically took months to instate, and that she could easily intercept it. "Plus, I think I might want to ask Sirius about some of the stuff in it."

"Don't ask him about this madness; he's already depressed enough as it is," Bill said. "Just talk to Remus. He's relatively more sane."

"Well, I have duty with him next week," Tonks said. "I'll do it then."

Bill took the file and told Tonks that he would be putting it into his personal vault at Gringotts. Tonks objected, but Bill told her that his status at the bank made his vault very private, and besides, no one would think it weird if she came in with one of his keys, and then he gave her one. When Tonks asked why that was, Bill blushed, and Fleur stated, "'e 'ides a lot of things for pretty girls, apparently."

Tonks then found out that Fleur, who had already been there less than two weeks was already going back to France. "It is a shame," she said, "but I plan on being back for permanent next year."

Hearing that news, Tonks left Bill and Fleur to their business because she knew if her significant other were leaving to another country, she would want some private snog time, too. But then again, that would require her to _have _a significant other.


	15. Dinner and Some Drinks

**Moonlitesadness- **I never said Kingsley was married.** HanSolosGal- **When I get some, I won't tell you, because I want to fantasize about Lupin all on my own. **Jackie- **Yeah! You won't like this chapter, though. ** Ravensiriusblack-**I love snacks! ** Shannan- **I love it, too. **Lily Christie- **Oh my gosh, you must've been channeling this chapter when you wrote that review. LOL. Like your name, btw. It reminds me of Agatha Christie. **Deb-lil- **Read the rest of it. **Kittiegalal,** **Evil Shall Giggle, Celi- **Thanks. **Pervy Severus Snape Lovers- **So, you like perverted Sevvy? Interesting. ** Blue Eyes At Night- **Next chapter, babe. Just for you. **chinchilla-in-a-bowl- **I've alerted my secretary. **Doodleflip- **You read the 6th book, didn't you? **Sexyface- **WAHOOO! ** PrincessSkywalkerOrgana-** Keep going. Nice review. ** slightly so- **You're kind of on the right track. **dancer8428- **I'm glad that it wasn't THAT boring, because hearing that it was super interesting was the _last _thing I wanted. LOL. **Saiyanwizardgurl- **I like sarcastic Remus. In A Separate Peace the main character states that people with fears are sarcastic. I instantly thought of Remus. **Eleen- **I do. **Carnivalgirl- **The marriage stuff comes later. Maybe. (Teehee! I love messing with you, Carnie). **cassie89**- I'm glad you liked it. **MiSS-x-MoOnY- **Thanks.

Next chapter has Harry! Yeah!

888

"_Apphy! Apphy! Get out here!" John carried his strangely calm (considering the situation) son into his house. "Appy! He's been bitten!"_

"_Oh," the beautiful with put her hands over her mouth. "No. Please. Please." She began to cry._

"_Here." John sat Remus on the floor. Apphy and John sat on opposite sides of him._

"_I'm so tired." The young boy yawned._

"_You can't sleep, Remus, just stay up." His father urged in a serious voice, and then turned to his wife. "If it was Jacob who did this, then Bae is nearby."_

"_You're not going to look for her!" The tears were still pouring down Apphy's face._

"_Of course I am. She can help, with this-" John waved his hands over Remus's small form. "I have to find her." He made to stand, and his wife pulled him down._

"_I don't trust her, John! Something isn't right!"_

"_She's---"_

"_Please, John!"_

"_I have to find her." He left, and Apphy kissed Remus's nose._

"_Hey, sweetie." Apphy looked down at the extremely fragile form of her son once John was out the door._

_  
"Where's Daddy going?" Remus whispered._

"_To get help. We'll help, sweetie." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Are you in pain? Does it hurt? What bit you?" Remus was not sure which question to answer first, so he squinted his eyes at his troubled mother, and answered all three._

"_I'm not in pain, so I don't hurt, it's just sort of numb. Some big doggy bit me."_

"_Oh, Remus." His mum rolled up his sleeve, and gasped. _

"_What Mommy?" Remus turned to look and his mum moved his head._

"_No, Remus." She spoke in a whisper and an urgent tone. "Don't look."_

"_Is it bad?"_

"_No." It was painfully obvious that his Mommy was lying._

"_Mum? Am I going to die?" Remus asked. Apphy never answered, and just sobbed into her son's stomach._

888

August came and went, along with Kingsley's birthday. "Come on, you ought to let us do something," Tonks pleaded. Just the fact that Tonks and Remus were officially 'us' was reason enough for Kingsley to object the kind gesture.

But it's not like Remus and Tonks noticed anything when they were together. They were together. Tonks was even more oblivious to Kingsley's feelings, and Remus had even stopped second-guessing all of Bae's actions.

"I miss Kingsley." Tonks announced one morning that she awoke in Remus's bed, to his soft lips kissing her forehead.

"What a strange thing to say." Remus observed.

"I meant," Tonks kicked his leg, "that I don't see him at work anymore, and in a couple days, I'm going to be stationed outside Hogwarts with three _extremely _unpleasant fellows."

"Maybe you'll get to see Harry," Remus wrapped his arms around Tonks's shoulders. Her brown hair fell over his face, and he kissed her shoulder.

"That's a plus to you. I don't really know the kid. Though every time I see him, I feel obligated to mention Sirius-"

Remus's form tensed, and Tonks sighed. "I miss him, too."

"I don't miss him." Remus sat up quickly, and breathed in and out, slowly.

"You can't pretend he never existed." Tonks rubbed circles on Remus's back, and even though he insisted on sleeping in a t-shirt (a habit Tonks was sure he developed during his childhood; she didn't CARE about the damn scars!), he still mentally shivered each time the rhythm of her fingers matched the beat of his heart. "We wouldn't be together if it wasn't for him." She purred in Remus's ears. He smiled.

"It was only because I was too thick to see that someone as amazing as you, someone as--- I miss him." Tonks hated seeing Remus in a sour state for two reasons. One was because he was the one to cheer her up. She would've given up several times had it not been for him. Another one was because she had absolutely no clue how to cheer _him_ up.

"I know you feel a little alone, but---" Tonks kissed Remus and he sighed. It had been so long after Sirius's return before he started to actually love him again. Then Sirius was murdered and Remus was reminded of the curse that everyone who loves him dies. How could he ask Tonks to suffer the same fate?

"I'm short changing you, Nymphadora." He said, but stopped as Tonks's lips began to trace his own. She massaged her hands on his chest and he pulled away, laughter forcing itself to his exterior.

"You really are a nymph, you know that?"

Tonks said nothing and just kicked him in the leg again.

Remus relished in the comfort of this for the moment, but he knew he'd have to end it eventually.

888

"You two've been getting comfy."

"Probably too much." Tonks agreed to Molly's statement, and Molly lamented the miserable Tonks. She didn't need to help this one.

"Seems like your life is coming together?"

"It seems like it." Tonks continued to sipping her tea, and the two struggled for something to say.

"You know it's funny, but when you're in a good mood, you're awfully clumsy and when you're depressed you hardly ever make a mess." Molly stated in light of the fact that Tonks had broken three teacups since her arrival a half hour before.

"Yeah, I figured that out. I guess my mum did, too, probably because she made my life a living hell." Tonks frowned, and Molly raised her eyebrows.

"Does Andromeda know that you're seeing Remus?"

"Well, she knew the first time,"

"First time?"

"But no, she doesn't know we're back together."

"I feel out of the loop." Molly sighed and then an idea appeared to go off in her head. "I got it! Why don't I smooth things over with your mum?"

"Oh, I don't want you to go to any trouble."

"Oh, I don't mind." Molly gritted her teeth, almost assuring Tonks that there was no way she would surrender her plan. Tonks decided to acquiesce, out of fright.

888

"This is Perdita." Bae introduced Remus to the young witch. "Jacob put you two together on the next assignment."

"What? Why! I thought I was going to be with you." Remus sighed, not sure if he could pull off the pretending-to-be-evil thing without Bae pretending alongside him.

"Excuse us," Bae nodded at the frail girl, and Bae pulled Remus away. She looked around the building at the dozens of wolves and nodded before speaking.

"Look, Perdita is new, she didn't want to be a wolf, she'll go along with you." Bae pleaded with him. "Please, Remus. She can't marry Aber."

"She's engaged to Aber?" He looked at the young girl, who he now recognized as the one Aber had attacked.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Why would she agree to marry someone like that?" Remus got lost in the thought of Aber's dirty exterior, but then thought of his muscular physique. It'd be hard to say no to someone like that.

"She was afraid, and her family abandoned her. Please."

"Fine." Remus nodded. "But how am I supposed to know what Albus wants us to do, when I can't even remember who I am as a werewolf?"

"We'll figure something." Bae assured him. "Hey! What happened between you and the kid?"

"Don't refer to her as that, please. You make me sound old and perverted."

"Maybe you are." Bae teased.

"Now tell me."

"We're…working on it."

"Yeah!" Bae slid her arm into Remus's, and the two walked back over to Perdita.

"Hey, you wanna come eat, Perdita?" Bae asked kindly and Perdita who would probably have been very outspoken otherwise now looked pale. "Come on, Perdita." Bae held out her hand, and motioned over to the far side of the building, where werewolves were gathering for a meal.

The young witch shook her head again.

"Remember how we went out together and hunted, Perdita? Remember? You were with Aber? Well, you won't be with him, you'll be with Remus here."

"Did you attend Hogwarts, Perdita?" Asked Remus, and she shook her head again. Her long blonde hair shimmered under the building's bright lights, and Remus sighed.

"My parents taught me." She whispered.

"That's nice, isn't it, Remus?"

"Very."

"Who're your parents Perdita?"

"I don't know." The girl looked away, and Bae took up air sharply. Whatever Aber did to her was too much.

Remus dreaded the full moon, and just wanted to get home to Nymphadora.

888

"Happy 33rd birthday!" Tonks held out the cake to Kingsley's face as he opened his door.

"Please tell me you didn't bake that." Were his only words. Tonks laughed.

Tonight, she decided upon entering his home, it would just be about herself and her best friend.

888

Molly was surprised when Tonks stated that she didn't want to be there when Molly told her mum about her and Remus.

"You are too nosey for your own damn good." Bill chuckled as he watched his mother straighten their faded table cloth along the table one last time.

"I care about Nymphadora."

"You just like to but in." Her son still found this funny, and Fleur was looking at her in pure confusion.

"I don' underrrstand what you did ther', it was straight the firs' time." She frowned at the cloth.

"No, it wasn't, _deary." _Molly erroneously smiled at the witch, and then sent a precautionary glance at Bill.

"Why don't we get out of here, let Mom be, hmmm?" Bill put his arm around the girl and led her out, and Molly sat at the table, head in hands in agitation.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly looked up to the wide eyes of Hermione Granger. Hermione was dressed in large pajamas and a t-shirt and it was obvious that she'd been sleeping. In proof the point she yawned. "Why're you still up? It's not Order business, is it?" Hermione looked at Molly in shock, probably more surprised that something would be going on without the three of them knowing about it.

"No. Just going to have a dinner with Tonks's mother. She was very busy, so I was forced to schedule this in the evening. Where are the boys?" Molly looked at the girl.

"Ginny and they are asleep. I just wanted a glass of water." Hermione looked at the ground sheepishly, but Molly just smiled and handed the cup to the young girl.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione chugged the water quickly and handed the glass back to its owner.

Hermione ran back to her room, and Molly had only a few moments to collect herself before a she heard a knock on the door.

888

Remus looked down at his plate in disgust. He jumped upon feeling Bae's leg nudge his own. "Pretend to eat." She mouthed and Remus looked at the human flesh lying before him. Only he and Perdita were flat out refusing to eat the tissue. Even Bae ate it.

"How can you do that?" He shrieked in a whisper at Bae.

"I've eaten this since before you were born, Remus. Don't judge me." She continued eating, while Perdita looked across the table in a sort of stupor.

"What's wrong with her?" Remus changed the subject.

"I don't know. Still in shock, I think. She barely even knew Aber when he bit her; just his name, I think, if that. It was also only a few days before the full moon. Though it is weird that she didn't attend Hogwarts."

"I didn't recognize her." Remus said, staring down at the peach colored skin in front of him. "This is awful, Bae. I can't eat this."

"You need to."

"I can't."

"Remus- you _have _to."

"I'm leaving." Remus shook his head, and made to stand but stopped when he felt Bae grab his wrist.

"If you leave then everything Albus worked for will be destroyed. Do you want that?" She hissed.

"No." Remus shook his head.

"Good." Bae smiled. Remus sat back down, closed his eyes, and began to eat the substance in front of him.

He knew that didn't deserve to kiss Tonks with these lips ever again.

888

"Thanks, Tonks." Kingsley hiccupped. "This has been the best birthday ever."

"No problem." Tonks giggled, while pouring Kingsley another glass of Firewhiskey.

"You're intoxicated." Kingsley grabbed the bottle from her. "This is what you do," he grabbed his glass, poured out what she'd poured in, and then filled it up again. "See?" He asked.

"Yes. Now I do."

"Good."

"I'm nervous." Tonks closed her eyes.

"About what?" Asked Kinglsey.

"Molly's telling my mom about my mister. He he. It's like a tongue twister."

"Remus?" Kingsley looked forlorn.

"Yeah, but I dunno. This morning I mentioned Sirius and he flipped out."

"Were they together?" Asked Kingsley.

"No!" Laughed Tonks. "They were just like brothers, but still---"

"What?"

"I'm the reason they're no longer together. It's my fault. I'll never forget that."

Kingsley swooped in and kissed Tonks, not even knowing what came over him.

888

"Molly!" Remus pounded on the Weasley door.

"Remus?" Molly opened the door, and Remus bounded in. Molly remembered the last time he did this, and it was because he wanted to end things with Tonks. "Remus before you say anything you should know---"

"I have to end things! I was stupid to start them! I---do you know where she is? Is Nymphadora here, because I can't do this! I can't do this, anymore! She wasn't at my place or hers and I have to know---" Remus stopped speaking when he felt a hand slap him in the face.

"I was just talking to Andromeda, Remus," Molly literally cringed as she assessed the situation, "I just explained to her that you would never hurt her daughter, after she implied that werewolves were incapable of being in a real relationship."

"Hello, Andi." Remus smiled. The witch left in a huff, but not before looking back at Remus and practically hissing.

"Stay away from my daughter, or you won't live to regret it."

When she was gone, Molly sighed.

"Irony sucks." A voice called from the other side of the house.

Molly and Remus turned to Ginny, who'd just witnessed the whole event.

TBC


	16. Albus's Plan and Tonks Isn't Over Him

**Author's Note: xLynzx- **More Sirius lata, I promise. **BexyLou-** TY **Moo- **A lot of stuff did happen** Saiyanwizardgurl- **I decided that we knew nothing about Andromeda besides that Sirius liked her. He may never have spoken to her, he may've just liked that she wasn't in Slytherin, or he may have thought she was funny. Or maybe he liked her, but she comes from a Wizarding family that's all for evil, and every werewolf that she has ever known is evil, and she doesn't want her daughter to just become 'another Black'. Basically, she thinks Remus is working for Voldemort, and I promise I'll get back into that later. **Blue Eyes At Night- **I had to take the Puffskein out, but man, oh, man, I mentioned him. Next story, Tonks refers to her copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. **chinchilla-in-a-bowl- **Kingsley's so sweet. **Kwala- **TY. **dancer8428- **I thought it was sweet. **cassie89- **Promise. **Dubtheeunforgiven- **I guess I should state that I'm not racist when it comes to what flesh Remus was eating. In another version, you found out what person it was, but you don't want to hear about that. **Eleen- **Not cheesy! That's what I wrote about me in my personal ad. **Carnivalgirl- **TY. **Doodleflip- **Yee hee! **Ravensiriusblack- **Yeah, cupcake!This chapter's dedicated to you.**Sinead Usagi- **You won't review 'til I wrote another chapter, huh?

Dedicated to you guys, all the reviewers, because I love you.

I think this chapter's blah, but blah is blah so we'll all be blah together.

888

"GINEVRA!" Molly Weasley shouted. "Go to bed! NOW!" The teenager rolled her eyes at her mother's request.

"Fine, Mum, I will. Good luck, Professor Lupin."

"Thank you, Ginny." Remus nodded, and watched the girl bound back to her bedroom.

"Sorry, Remus I thought they were all asleep-"

"It's ok. I'm sure Ginny won't go telling everyone that Tonks's mother slapped me. It's rather embarrassing, see."

"Remus, I don't really understand what you're being so smug about." Molly said, as Remus sat in nearby chair. He sighed, and pulled out a Chocolate Frog box. Remus lifted the lid and threw the hopping piece into his mouth, chewing it slowly, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. When he was finished he looked at the card, and frowned.

Albus Dumbledore. It was strange- Albus had gotten him into this mess. Albus had sent him on that mission with Bae. Albus had introduced him to Tonks. Albus had brought this all onto Remus, and now he was breaking under the weight. He had to figure out something.

"I need to go to Hogwarts." He decided.

"What?" Asked Molly, but it was of no use. Remus was out the door.

888

"_I would like you to accompany me on a mission, Remus." Albus announced to Remus who'd arrived at Dumbledore's office ready and willing after receiving a semi-urgent owl from the Headmaster._

"_Really?" Remus could barely hide his excitement._

"_Yes. We're recruiting members for throwing the Order back together. Sirius is still at your house, correct?"_

"_Of course." Remus nodded. He thought of how Sirius had begged to be let out ('just once,' he said 'I'll be a dog, so no one will know me,')._

"_Well, this is different. We're having lunch with a couple of Aurors. Remember Kingsley Shacklebolt? Wanted to be in the Order the first time, but he was still in school?"_

"_Yes. So him?" Remus asked._

"_And one of his co-workers." Dumbledore affirmed. _

_888_

_Remus entered the muggle restaurant as Dumbledore held the door open for him. "Thanks," he smiled. Dumbledore nodded. _

"_We should just sit at a table." Dumbledore suggested, and Remus slid into a booth, followed by Dumbledore._

_The two seemed to be sitting for less than a minute before Dumbledore stood. "There." He pointed out the window. Several faces turned to see where Dumbledore was pointing. It was towards a couple of strangers who were entering the diner._

"_Albus!" Kingsley exclaimed, and Dumbledore smiled._

"_Hello, Kingsley." He nodded. "And you, too, Nymphadora." Albus smiled at a girl who'd followed Kingsley in. Remus felt short of breath. She was exceptionally short, with thick, auburn curls, and a crooked, almost teasing, smile. She had big brown eyes and smiled at Remus._

"_Hello, my name's Tonks." She held out her hand._

"_This here's Remus! I know you!" Kingsley interrupted the connection between Tonks and Remus; at least Remus thought it was a connection. He wanted her hand to hold his forever._

"_Hello, Kingsley." Remus smiled._

"_Remus Lupin?" Tonks turned to him, and Remus blushed. She sounded so impressed. "All the Headmaster did was talk about how wonderful you were; he said you were the loyalist member of the Order."_

"_He is." Albus smiled, and patted Remus on the shoulder. He then gave Remus a very subtle wink. _

As he went to Hogwarts, Remus realized that it made sense that Albus would know that he would fall in love with Nymphadora. Albus Dumbledore knew everything.

888

"Oh," Tonks rubbed her head.

"Here." A cup of something horrid smelling was pushed under her nose.

"What the hell is that?" She groaned, standing up and stretching.

"Hangover Antidote." Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled at Tonks. "After the night we had last night, I nearly drank a whole cauldron-full myself."

"Last night?" She hollered. "What did we do?"

"Don't scream!" Kingsley rubbed his temples. "We didn't do anything. We kissed and then we passed out."

"Shit." Tonks sat down and forced her eyelids on each other. "I wanna die."

"Don't die." Kingsley ordered. "You have Duty in Hogsmeade remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Joy." She sighed. Tonks would've complained more, but at that moment, she noticed something on Kingsley's coffee table. "What's that?"

"Oh. That. It's a note from your mum." Kingsley said. "An owl brought it this morning."

Tonks ripped the note out of the previously opened envelope. Kingsley didn't even use magic to cover up his tracks.

"Sorry." He patted her knee.

Remus was breaking up with her, Tonks read. And her mother knew before she did.

888

Remus arrived at Hogwarts and sent his Patronus as a message to Hagrid. The groundskeeper let him in, smiling jovially.

"Why here, Remus?" He asked, as the two made their way up to the castle. Remus said nothing. Later, Hagrid tried again.

"Studens'll be here soon, y'know. Better make it quick."

"I will Hagrid." Remus smiled when they reached the front doors. "Thank you." He nodded.

"No problem. Come and chat anytime."

Remus nodded and entered the castle, and relished in his old environment. His _home. _He would love to live here, grow old here. After the deaths of James, Lily, and Peter, and the imprisonment of Sirius, Remus had asked that Harry be brought here to be protected (and if they homed an old werewolf, that wouldn't be so bad, either), but Dumbledore had been adamant that Harry live with his Aunt and Uncle. And so he did.

Remus turned the hall, and walked down the corridor, heading to the Headmaster's Office. Along the way, he ran into someone despicable.

"What're you doing here, Lupin?" Snape sneered.

"I came to have a word with Albus. Is that a crime?"

"Werewolves aren't allowed to roam school grounds without a warrant." Snape snarled, and Remus sighed. He wasn't sure if that was true or not, but he doubted it was enforced even if it was.

"Well, then it's good I'm only one werewolf, huh?" He sarcastically replied, and continued walking.

"Go along, Lupin!" Snape called after him. "You'll get what yours…" He quietly vowed, but Remus still heard him.

"I'll say the same to you!" Remus shouted towards Snape, and then stopped walking when he reached the Headmaster's Office.

"Hello, Remus." One of the gargoyles greeted him.

"Hello, boys." Remus acknowledged them. "Would you be willing to alert Albus of my presence?"

"See," The other gargoyle said. "He doesn't want to talk to us."

"It's a shame. All anyone cares about when they come by is the Headmaster."

"That's not true." Remus frowned. "I talked to you two often."

"And then Peter would drag you off-"

"And we'd never see you again."

Remus scowled at the thought of Peter. "Here, enter." A gargoyle interrupted his thoughts, and then door before him swung open.

"Thanks." Remus nodded.

Remus entered the dimly lit passage, and stepped onto the staircase before him. He began to move, and Remus stood patiently. When the spiraling motion ended, Remus was face to face with Dumbledore, who'd opened the door. "Hello, Remus." He greeted.

"Your hand…" Remus pointed at Dumbledore's blackened right hand.

"Nothing to worry about." Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly. "Why are you here, Remus?" He asked in a kind tone, directing Remus towards Remus's regular chair in front of his desk. Remus sat down.

"I actually- I wanted to talk to you about Nymphadora." Remus began, as Dumbledore sat across from him.

"Oh?" Dumbledore arched his eyebrows.

"Yes. I did."

888

Tonks had only a few minutes to ponder Remus's sudden change of thought. She showered, got dressed, and left Kingsley's place quickly.

"Tonks," Kingsley had said as the witch was leaving.

"Yes?" She asked.

"If you…if you continue to let Remus treat you this way, perhaps you should think about something happening between…us." Kingsley said this very quickly, and his face turned a bright pink.

"Oh." Tonks paled. "Oh. I should go." She left quickly, and apparated to Hogsmeade.

"You're late." Dawlish greeted her without a hello.

"Lovely to see you too." She muttered bitterly, knowing that she probably looked as ill and confused as she felt.

"Proudfoot and Savage are already stationed," Dawlish continued.

Tonks rolled her eyes. Today was going to be _so _much fun.

888

"You think I introduced you to Tonks in hopes that you two would form a romantic relationship?" Asked Dumbledore incredulously.

"Yes!" Remus screamed. "You planned all this! You wanted this! You wanted me to fall for her, even though I couldn't have her! You wanted to break my heart and destroy me! I always thought you were looking out for me!" Remus wiped his eyes savagely. "But you weren't." He finished. "You weren't." Dumbledore seemed to mull over the accusation, and then spoke in his soft even tone.

"You were like a son to me, Remus. I wanted only the best for you." He faced him, and his icy blue eyes seemed to freeze Remus's soul. "I would never do anything to you that you couldn't handle."

Remus had no clue what that meant.

888

"Aren't Puffskeins adorable?" Tonks listened to Proudfoot as he gazed over the case in front of the local pet store.

"Ginny Weasley told me that her brother Fred flushed theirs down the toilet." Tonks spoke with disinterest, still thinking about Remus, why her mother was so persnickety, and Kingsley's offer.

"What if I bought you one?" Proudfoot suggested. Tonks giggled. She didn't need another man.

"I'd make sure he ate your phlegm first." Proudfoot laughed, and then stopped.

"Hey, look! The Hogwarts Express has arrived." He pointed in the distance. Tonks looked at him.

"I'm getting closer. Don't tell anyone." She slid through the bushes and walked down the street before stopping the perfect hiding distance. Tonks watched the students exit, and smiled at each one she recognized. She practically squealed when she saw Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but caught her breath when she saw no Harry. She waited and waited and Harry never turned up.

Deciding something was wrong, Tonks began to head to the Hogwarts Express, and easily opened the front door. Checking each compartment she saw nothing, her wand not glowing at the hidden person. The train began to move, and Tonks wanted to scream. After almost giving up, she yanked open a door, and her wand began to instantly glow.

"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of Harry after guessing that that was where he was hiding. When she saw him, her mind stopped. Sirius… Remus… Everything felt bad again. She hoped her pain wasn't too evident.

She performed an anti-stiff charm, and Harry stood up quickly. Tonks suggested that the two jump to get off the moving Express. Tonks decided to become professional, and tried to put on an icy exterior. She fixed Harry's obviously damaged nose, and then began to head to the castle. She sent her Patronus, deciding that it should explain that she was on her way.

It was a wolf. A very distinguishable wolf. She knew then that she was nowhere near being over Remus.

TBC (The next chapter _actually _advances the plot when I skip some months! Awoohoo!)


End file.
